


Hi, I'm The Emotionally Repressed Girl Who Ran From Her Latent Homosexual Feelings for Ten Years, Trixie Mattel!

by Oro (thepinkonesoterrify), wewouldbeheroes



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: (I do jsyk), Alternate Universe - Cabaret, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boston AU, Drag Race and Performing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Go Easy On Me, Happy Ending, Hurt!Katya, Katya is a smoker, LMAO, M/M, Misunderstandings, Obliviousness, Past Drug Addiction, Repressed!Trixie lol, Romantic Angst, Slow Burn, They perform Rocky Horror, Three if you count the gays, Trixie is Problematic, Underage Drinking, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Well happy for someone, also, bc why not, depends on Trixie's step dad and if I hate happiness, just a little, maybe some homophobic language???, my two favorite things, this is my first published fic, why am i like this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-18 19:23:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 156,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13688172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinkonesoterrify/pseuds/Oro, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wewouldbeheroes/pseuds/wewouldbeheroes
Summary: Ru always kept his Cabaret as elegant as possible. Nice furniture, the smell of incense and a bit of alcohol reminded her more of home than her actual home did. And, she wasn’t disappointed. Barstools were neatly pushed in where they weren’t being used. High dining tables scattered the house, with equally high chairs, padded with nice, velvet cushions. Even the stage had a fresh coat of black paint on it, and the curtains had been replaced in the last ten years, she noticed. This was once home to her, she wondered, briefly, why she left.“… Trixie?”Oh.Trixie felt her stomach drop to the floor. She faced the bar and the voice that came from behind it.“Katya. Hey.”





	1. Fishnet Stockings, High Boots, & Delicate Conversation in Present December

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, Hello, Good day, friends!  
> I... don't know what the fUCK I'm doing. But that's okay because I love Trixya, and I'm willing to do anything for them! 
> 
> Well, okay, like I said it's my first try at actually writing and publishing a fic, so I'm bearing my soul(my soul is comprised of Trixya obvi) and hoping y'all enjoy this as much as I do. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated! This is a pretty indulgent fic for me, and it'll primarily focus on the nine years prior to the first chapter! Lots of soft!Trixya moments tbh. They perform Rocky Horror with all your favorite queens(including the OG Queen herself), and honestly, I'm just excited to write it for you lovely guys, gals, and nonbinary pals! I really hope you enjoy yourselves and don't hate me for the angst that is to inevitably come!m  
> Say hello to me at [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! I'd really appreciate the company!

Snow danced in the mid-December air as Trixie urgently walked down the cultural district of Boston, her hands shoved in the pockets of the long-coat that she borrowed from her mom. She was shivering and trying to remind herself why she thought a damn dress was a good idea for this climate. The air whipped under her skirt, and her teeth clattered for the third time in the last ten minutes. She was already exhausted, and the cold wasn’t helping. Why she thought booking a red-eye from Milwaukee to Boston was a good idea, she’ll never fucking know. Saving money? Fuck money, she’ll take the sleep and decent food, thank you very much. 

One month ago, Trixie Mattel got a call she’d never expect in a million years. RuPaul Charles, her director from a cabaret in Boston she worked at, nearly ten years ago, had somehow found her number, despite having no contact in all this time. God knows how, but Trixie always said RuPaul works in mysterious ways. They reminisced on the phone for hours, about old performances, and old friends. Trixie enjoyed the conversation, despite the fact she hadn’t had much to contribute. While Ru was off being a newlywed with his husband Georges, Trixie was working back in small town Wisconsin, helping her mom with her siblings and taking a receptionist job at the local elementary school. She can’t say she particularly disliked her entire existence, or that Wisconsin was just a reminder of everything she ever hoped she would never be, but it wasn’t all bad, that’s for sure. She contemplated leaving, but she wanted to help her family. And as her step-father so lovingly put it: “It was her duty,”.  
So, there she was, in a dead-end town. Most of the kids from school had married by now, she was twenty-eight after all, and her friendships had all but fallen apart after Trixie had left for Boston. Most of them had even popped out a child or two, and Trixie found it hard to relate and/or enjoy one second of their company. So, when RuPaul had asked Trixie to spend a week at the Cabaret for a reunion performance she was hosting, how could Trixie ever say no?  
After confirming her attendance, Trixie threw herself in bed, fully panicking. Was everyone going to be there? What if she was the only one to show up? What if she decided not go, and was the only who didn’t? She did enough damage when she left last time. What if they all hated her? What if she saw Katya? Of course, she’ll see Katya, she was as much a part of that cast as anyone else. How would Katya react to seeing her? Things would be weird, of course. Would she be prepared to handle that? Maybe Katya would just ignore her the whole time? Which honestly sounded like a pretty good option. 

Her family, naturally, tried to discourage the trip. And they almost succeeded, too, especially with thoughts of Katya running wild in her head (like maybe Katya would throw a drink on her when she first saw her??), but Trixie realized if she didn’t go now, she never, ever would. She would just have to cross the Russian bridge when she got to it. She packed her guitar, her harp, and her suitcase and left for the airport the next morning. 

Trixie’s last time in Boston was potentially one of the best and worst times of her life. That was when things were changing for her. For better or worse, Trixie still wasn’t sure. She was only nineteen at the time, and how much can a nineteen-year-old comprehend about life-long lessons and impact? She found parts of herself she didn’t even know existed. And she loved that. But she also found a Pandora’s Box worth of things she didn’t dare try and open. And it didn’t take much for her to plunge back into Wisconsin, after barely making a home on these busy city streets. She did like it here in Boston. She liked the diversity, the hustle and bustle of city life. There was always something to occupy yourself with here. It wasn’t like Wisconsin, and that, perhaps, was the best part. 

Trixie, desperate to relieve herself of the cold, cut through a few alleys to get to the Cabaret, it’s funny, how well she still knew the Boston streets. She walked into a shabby-looking building, with broken lights, chipped brick, and ripped, wet, paper signs just outside the door. It’s clear the place had seen it’s better years, but Trixie didn’t seem to notice as she retched open the doors to get out of the cold. Warmth flooded her body, and she silently praised Ru for always being a cold blood.  
Expectations were rather high, as Ru always kept his cabaret as elegant as possible. Nice furniture, the smell of incense and a bit of alcohol reminded her more of home than her actual home did. And, she wasn’t disappointed. Barstools were neatly pushed in where they weren’t being used. High dining tables scattered the house, with equally high chairs, padded with nice, velvet cushions. Even the stage had a fresh coat of black paint on it, and the curtains had been replaced in the last ten years, she noticed. This was home to her, she wondered why she left. 

“… Trixie?”

Oh.

In an instant, Trixie felt her stomach drop to the floor. Already? She thought. She faced the bar, and the voice that came from behind it. 

“Katya. Hey.” She said shortly. This was not good. Not good at all. She hadn’t mentally prepared herself for an encounter this early. She braced herself. She braced herself for the potential yelling, for a drink to be dumped on her head. Anything. 

But nothing came. 

“I didn’t think you’d come to the reunion. In fact, Ru didn’t even tell me you were invited.” Katya shifted her weight and cocked her hip out as she looked Trixie up and down. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Trixie, deciding it was probably okay to move towards Katya, inched her way over to the bar. 

Katya shrugged. “Dunno. I’m just surprised you came.” 

There was a pause and Trixie took their momentary lapse in conversation to give Katya the same scrutinizing eye. She was slim as ever, clad in a white and black checked dress. She couldn’t see her legs behind the bar, but Trixie would put money on those muscular thighs being clad in fishnets and high boots. Katya’s hair had grown, in fact, it looked like it hadn’t been cut in the last nine years. Long, blonde waves, darker at the roots that cascaded over her shoulders. It had lots of volume, and Trixie can’t remember a time Katya’s hair looked like it had so much effort put into it. 

“So,” Katya spoke up. “Can I get you a drink?” Trixie was pulled out of her daze, and back into the reality of her current situation. Her stomach flipped again. 

“Oh, uh, water would be nice.” Trixie sat down on one of the barstools and began to notice the place was practically empty. There were a few lowly looking men, scattered at tables, but that was it. Trixie’s brow creased, the place used to be packed. “So,” she began, watching Katya move about behind the counter. “How have you been?” 

“Fine.” Katya set the glass down firmly in front of Trixie and popped a straw in the top before going about cleaning up a little. 

“That’s good to hear.” Trixie nodded, fiddling with the straw and staring at it as if it was the most interesting thing in the room and not Katya. 

Katya pursed her red-streaked lips. “You?”

“No complaints.” 

“You still living in Wyoming?” Katya finally looked up from the impeccably clean shot glass she was wiping down. 

“Wisconsin.” Trixie corrected, finally deciding that her water deserved more than to just be played with and ogled at. She took a sip and cringed at the pink ring her lipstick left on the straw. 

“Mm.” Katya nodded slowly and tossed her rag beneath the counter, before folding her arms over her chest and gazing at Trixie coolly. 

Trixie shifted in her seat. “So, who’s all coming to this… thing? Our whole cast?” 

Katya looked down at her feet and back up again. “Uhm, Adore is flying in from Cali, I know. Violet still lives here and so does Kim.” Katya’s eyes roamed the room as she thought. “Plus, you, me, Bianca.” She paused. “We haven’t heard from Aja, yet. Oh, and Ginger is trying to get time off her rehearsals, so we’ll see.”

“Alaska?”

“No, I don’t think so. She hasn’t responded to anyone’s phone calls so...” Katya shrugged. “She’ll probably show up unannounced. She always like to make an entrance.” 

Trixie smiled at the thought. “Probably.” 

There was a beat of silence as the two ran out of things to say, yet again. Katya was fiddling with an end of her hair, and Trixie went back stirring her water. 

“How’s Ru? And Georges?” She knew perfectly well how they were.

“Oh.” Katya smiled briefly, and Trixie got a glimpse at those perfect teeth. “They’re really good, still… really in love and… super gay.” Katya chuckled. 

“What about you? Still a lesbian?” Trixie regretted the words as soon as they passed her lips. Something passed over Katya’s face, an unidentifiable emotion and she crooked her lips and laughed. 

“Yeah, Trixie. I am.” Katya bit her lip. “Seeing anyone in Wyoming?”

Trixie investigated her cup again. “Nah, no. Not a lot of pickings in Wisconsin.” 

“Not a lot of lesbians?” She mused. 

Trixie sucked in a breath and pretended she didn’t hear the question. “So why is Ru planning this little reunion performance?” She asked, her eyes elsewhere as she hoped Katya wouldn’t press the previous issue. 

Katya was silent for a moment. “A lot of us have moved on, Trix. We had good times, it’s been almost ten years and none of us even… text. Or follow each other on Instagram.” Katya shrugged. “You didn’t have to come, you know.”

“I wanted to.”

“…Well, I’m glad you did.” Katya pursed her lips again, giving Trixie a hard gaze. Almost a challenge. She didn’t respond, and, instead, rapped her nails against the bar counter. Trixie felt bad. What was she supposed to say to that? She knows Katya’s implications, and she wasn’t a lesbian. So why entertain the idea that they could ever be anything more than friends? Or even that? Katya was the soul reason it was so hard for her to come back here. She could face nearly everything else, she really, really could. She could face the girls scolding her for just disappearing almost ten years ago, she could face Ru, despite never calling like she promised. But facing Katya, was a whole can of worms she was so unwilling to open. 

“Trixie?” 

“Hm?”

“Let me take you on a tour, for old times sake?” Katya offered, coming out from behind the bar. 

“Don’t you have to work?” 

Katya surveyed the restaurant with haughty smirk. “Oh, yeah, customers are fighting for my attention.” Trixie glimpsed at the house again. The same lowly guys were minding themselves at their tables, doing God knows what. 

“Yeah, that’s true.” Trixie responded with a laugh. “Yeah, okay, a quick tour.” 

“Great, cunt, let’s start in the office.” Katya grinned softly in that Katya fashion, and came out from behind the bar, untying her apron as she did. And lo and behold: 

Fishnets and high boots.


	2. The Parking Lot Performance that Changed Trixie Mattel’s Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie took a breath, relaxing into her guitar. It was a long time since she got to play her own music for herself. She allowed herself to bounce lightly with the beat, tap her foot a little. The weight of her instrument felt good, she felt great, and nothing could take away the joy music brought to her. She gave a quick smile as she played a carefully placed riff between verses.
> 
> _“…And I’ll tell you where I wanna be!_  
>  _Where the grass is much greener all around_  
>  _When I’m outta your mind with my feet on the ground!_  
>  _I’ll tell you when I’m looking down,_  
>  _It’ll all look up!_  
>  _And it’s looking up from how it’s looking now._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! I'm back, back, back again!  
> I regret to inform you that this chapter has no Katya, but a bit of RuPaul and a teeny dash of Pearl! And lots of Emotional!Angsty!Trixie!! But next chapter will have all your favorite Queens, I promise!! Chapter two gave me hell, but it's fine! I only have about thirteen rewrites in my files. 
> 
> I really, REALLY hope you like this chapter a lot more than I did writing it. Also, it features one of Trixie's old, old, unreleased songs, you can find on YouTube here: [Where the Grass is Much Greener](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jF9dbmvIoYU)
> 
> Also, thank you for the feedback! You're all my favorites! I was so excited that I made my mom read the first chapter! Keep it coming, and constructive criticism is welcome! 
> 
> trigger warning: Homophobic language and a bit of emotional abuse from Trixie's step-dad. 
> 
> As always, Say hello to me at [wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! I'd really appreciate the company!

# ◍ ◍Almost Ten Years Before ◍ ◍

# 

Boston? Fucking Boston. Trixie had climbed in her car and drove sixteen hours, nonstop to Massachusetts. Why? Fuck if she knew, she just wanted was to get away from Wisconsin, and away from her parents. She had stopped in a little gas station, just off the highway and into the city. Wedged between two large trucks, Trixie parked, staring momentarily into her dashboard, and then the tears came. She slumped against the steering wheel, emotionally overwhelmed by what the last two days had brought her. Sixteen hours of angry-driving can really fuck you up.  
Fuck her parents. Fuck them for thinking she couldn’t be more than her small town offered. Fuck her step-father for calling her a ‘dyke’. Trixie took in a deep breath, tears still streaming as her Melissa Etheridge album played quietly in the background. It was almost in time with the incessant buzzing of her cell, sitting sixteen-hours untouched in the cup holder. She grabbed her small pink phone and flipped it open. Over the last sixteen hours, Trixie had over a hundred missed calls. Her mom, mostly, but her best friend, Pearl, had a decent number of rings in there too. Her voicemail box was full, and she wondered if listening was even a good idea. She clicked through to her texts, sniveling a little as she selected Pearl’s name. 

**Pearl:**  
8:49 am  
_bitch, val called, she asked if u were here_  
ur not whats going on?

9:05 am  
_come on don’t fuck around t_

9:15 am  
_ur mom is losing it, ur not answering calls_

9:27 am  
_she said u packed ur bags + left_

9:28 am  
_????????????_

9:35 am  
_im kinda mad u escaped w/o me_

9:36 am  
_middle of the night_  
_what a bad girl_

10:07 am  
_actually_  
_trix girl im getting worried._

11:13 am  
_val came over, + ur step-dad is PISSED_  
_trixie, did he do something??_  
_is that why u left?_  
_we went out + looked for u_

11:45 am  
_im scared_

12:06 pm  
_t pls. t pls answer and be ok_

12:07 pm  
_if u come home, u can move in idc_  
_i miss u_

Trixie felt her stomach churn, Pearl was worried. She didn’t mean to scare everyone, but, she also didn’t mean to drive to Boston. She was on a roll apparently. 

**Trixie**  
4:07pm  
_im fine :)_

She snapped the phone closed as another call from her mom came in and tossed back into the cup holder. She didn’t even want to think of what happens next. She’d have to drive back to Milwaukee eventually, face her family, face her step-dad. She knew the least she could do was call her mom back, but she was too angry still. Too emotional. She closed her eyes and wiped the mascara she was sure streaked her face. In the back seat, her suitcase, her guitar, and her harp all sat idly, unmoving from the trip. Trixie scoffed. Where in the hell did she think she was going when she left? She leaned her head back against her head-rest and closed her eyes.  
She could use a shower. She could use sleep and some dinner. She sucked in a deep breath and reached for her purse on the passenger seat, she vaguely remembered shoving all the money she kept stored in her mattress in the front pocket. Maybe she could afford one night in a motel before she returns to Milwaukee? 

Six-hundred, crumpled dollars filled her hands, and she cursed herself. She had almost saved enough to get her new guitar. Almost. But, thanks to her impulsiveness, it had to be used for a place to sleep. Trixie felt the tears again, and she wiped her makeup-laden eyes on her blouse, a smudge of mascara coming off on the fabric.  
Her guitar caught her eye in the rearview mirror again, and although a gas station parking lot wasn’t ideal, she suddenly felt the urge to play. Just to have moment of peace with her music.  
Who cares? She was never coming back to Boston, and it’s not like anyone would pay attention. She pushed the driver side door open and climbed out, feeling the ache in her muscles from sitting so long. She stretched before sliding the guitar off the back seat and walking to the pickup's bed. She popped the gate open while she steadied the case on her shoulder and then she used the flat surface to pop her pink acoustic out of it’s safe place. Even just looking at her favorite guitar made her smile. She tuned a few of the strings, and carefully placed her capo on the neck, and then Trixie slid her fingers down and strummed.

_“Well, I, sleep with a light on, I got two different socks on,_ _and my left shoe is tied tighter than the other!_  
_I don’t have much to my name,_ _I got a few bucks in poc-ket change,_ _and I’m jumping from this one song to the other..._ ”

____

_____ _

Trixie took a breath, relaxing into her guitar. It was a long time since she got to play her own music for herself. She allowed herself to bounce lightly with the beat, tap her foot a little. The weight of her instrument felt good, she felt great, and nothing could take away the joy music brought to her. She gave a quick smile as she played a carefully placed riff between verses. 

_“…And I’ll tell you where I wanna be!_  
_Where the grass is much greener all around_  
_When I’m outta your mind with my feet on the ground!_  
_I’ll tell you when I’m looking down,_  
_It’ll all look up!_  
_And it’s looking up from how it’s looking now._ ”

____

_____ _

Part of Trixie wished she had her harmonica, but she settled for swinging her hips. God, she forgot how fun this song was to play. She was happy for the first time in two days. She sang a few more of her verses, the unsure part of herself realizing just how talented she is. By now, a few people had glanced in Trixie’s direction, watching her faintly from their cars and gas pumps. She couldn’t find it in herself to really care. 

_“…Well, I’m thirsty for some sanity, ___  
_And I could really go for some freedom right about now! ___  
_Myself actualization is running a little late,_ _but it’s alright!_  
_And, I’ll be fine…”_

_____ _

Trixie allowed herself to riff in the notes, and someone ‘whooped’ at her which caused her to laugh over lyrics. There was a small crowd, forming, quite a few feet from her car, and she looked up at them, smiling. Apparently, Boston had good taste. 

_“Where the grass is much greener all round…” ___

____

Trixie found herself just bopping to the song, this was exactly the lift she needed after tonight. She needed the bliss of just playing for a while, and the crowd was irrelevant to her. She was glad people enjoyed her music, but she needed this moment to be alone in her tune. She was playing for herself. 

_“…Where the grass is much greener all around,_  
_When I’m outta your mind with my feet on the ground!_  
_I’ll tell you when I’m looking down,_  
_It’ll all look up!_  
_And it’s looking up from how it’s looking now._  
_Dootdoot, doo, doo,_  
_Mmmmm, mm, mm._  
_And it’s looking up from how it’s looking now!”_

_____ _

 

_____ _

Trixie looked up from the end of her song, she was breathing a little rapidly from her vigorous performance and the small crowd gave her quite the applause. Yeah, good taste. She waved her hand, trying to stop the few people who were tossing a few bucks her way. She really wasn’t playing for them. 

_____ _

“Oh, wow, you really don’t— Thank you so much,” She smiled as one man left a few bills in her case. Well… if they wanted to pay… As Trixie adjusted her guitar, a tall man approached her with his hand out-stretched. 

_____ _

“Can I ask your name, dear?” He had on a fancy checkered suit with thick glasses and white shoes. Trixie didn’t think she’d ever seen a man dress so flamboyantly. 

_____ _

“It’s Trixie Mattel.” She took his hand and gave it a firm shake, smiling. 

_____ _

“My name is RuPaul Charles. Are you local?” Trixie shook her head and pointed to the license plate on her truck.

_____ _

“Milwaukee, Wisconsin, actually.” She began packing up her guitar. 

_____ _

“Are you planning on staying in Boston long?” 

_____ _

“Just for the night,” Trixie said dismissively, a strange man, much bigger than her wanted to know her whereabouts. Comforting. 

_____ _

“Well, even so, Miss Mattel… I’d like to offer you a job, performing in my Cabaret.” 

_____ _

Trixie turned to face him, eyes blown. Okay, maybe he was worth her time. 

_____ _

“I’m sorry?” 

_____ _

“I want you to come work with me and my cast. We perform nightly Variety Shows that I host, and we just lost one of our main musicians.” Ru paused. “She got herself a record deal, through me, of course.” The man looked smug, but in a subtle, charming sort of way. All Trixie could do was stare. He could be lying. He could be just trying to drag her somewhere to harvest her organs, or something. Anyone could make up a story like this. 

_____ _

“With all due respect,” Trixie spoke slowly. “You could be completely bullshitting me.” 

_____ _

He gave a hearty laugh. “I understand your hesitation. But I’m not. Here.” He pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Trixie. On the front, it said: 

_____ _

Jacques Bar & Cabaret.  
280 Washington St.  
Boston, MA. 02113

_____ _

 

_____ _

And on the back:

_____ _

RuPaul Charles  
617-998-0447

_____ _

“This doesn—”

_____ _

“I’m very busy, you should know. And I’d very much like you to join us. You can mull it over and give me a call tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll hear from you.” He gave Trixie a gentle smile. “You’re very, very good, Trixie. Even if you decide not to join us, I’d encourage you to keep performing.” He winked at Trixie before walking back to the gas station. She held the business card in her hand, looking down at it. She was just offered a job. 

_____ _

Maybe, she wasn’t supposed to go back to Wisconsin.

_____ _

 

_____ _

✘✘✘

_____ _

Trixie was nestled up in her hotel bed, it was nearly seven now, and she had managed to book a room, grab some McDonald’s, and shower. She kept mulling back and forth between the business card and her phone. She saw two choices, here. Stay in Boston, leave everything behind in Wisconsin, and become a performer. Or, go back to Wisconsin, face the music, and continue living her small, boring life. The life she was used to. She dropped her head against her pillow, groaning.  
She really wanted to stay. She really wanted this job. When she had checked in, just an hour ago, Trixie had asked the front desk woman about ‘Jacques Bar  & Cabaret’, and judging by the wide eyes and bright grin, Trixie realized this wasn’t an opportunity to pass up. Apparently, it was one of the most popular spots in the city. The cast was eccentric, so was the host, and Trixie had a job offer to become part of their permanent cast. How do you say no to something like that?

_____ _

What was she thinking? She couldn’t stay in Boston. She didn’t even mean to be here in the first place. No, she needed to call her mom and tell her she was going to be home in the morning. She needed to call RuPaul and tell him she appreciated the offer, but there was just no way.  
Was there just no way? Trixie pursed her lips at the business card. I mean, wasn’t there a way through everything? Wasn’t there a way for everything if you really wanted it?  
No, probably not. She sighed. 

_____ _

Trixie flipped open her phone, ghosting over the voicemails that she still hadn’t listened to. Pearl had responded two hours ago, but she really didn’t feel like drudging up that horse over text. She pursed her lips and dialed the house phone. 

_____ _

“Beatrice Mattel!” Her mother answered on the first ring, and Trixie closed her eyes. “What in God’s name is wrong with you!? Where are you? We’ve been all over Milwaukee, your step-father even drove into the city to find you!” She chided, and Trixie’s stomach churned at the thought. 

_____ _

She sighed. “I’m fine, mom. I’m… I’m not in Milwaukee.” She said softly, tangling her hand in her damp curls. “I’m in Boston.”

_____ _

“Boston? How in the hell did you— No!” Trixie could hear her step-father speaking in the background. “David, she drove to Boston. Trixie Mattel, you get your ass home, right now! We are going to have—” Her mother was silent for a long moment. “Your step-father would like a word.” 

_____ _

“No, mom, I’d rather talk to—”

_____ _

“Beatrice Mattel, if you are not on the road in the next five minutes, I’m going upstairs and smashing every little pretty thing in that bedroom of yours.” He growled. “Living here is a privilege, and you don’t get to run out of every argument because you’re upset…”

_____ _

Trixie felt tears prick her eyes, and his words were drowned by her thoughts. Fuck him. Fuck her mom for not defending her. She was nineteen. She was an adult, and she could do whatever the hell she wanted to do. 

_____ _

“No.” Trixie sucked in a breath. “No, I’m not coming home.” David was silent for several moments, and Trixie felt a small surge of victory. 

_____ _

“The hell do you mean, you’re not coming home?” Trixie heard her mother say something indiscernible. 

_____ _

“I… I got a job offer, playing guitar here.” 

_____ _

“Lying, dyke.” 

_____ _

Trixie slammed her phone shut. That stupid, fucking, disgusting word again. She reached across her bed and grabbed the business card that was lying on the table. Her fingers felt like fire as she typed the number in hastily.  
The phone rang forever before she heard RuPaul’s chipper voice on the other end. 

_____ _

“This is RuPaul Charles, may I ask who I’m speaking to?” Trixie’s phone beeped, her mom was calling on the other line. She stared at her screen, silent for a moment. “Hello?” 

_____ _

“Uh, Mr. Charles.” She said apprehensively. “This is Trixie Mattel.”

_____ _

Her phone beeped again.

_____ _

“From… the parking lot?” 

_____ _

“Yes, sir. Yes! Uhm, I just wanted to tell you that I made a decision.” She spoke slowly, peeking at her phone screen again to read her most recent text from her older brother. 

_____ _

Dan:  
7:49 pm  
Mom says u need to apologize to david :P

_____ _

Trixie’s throat went dry. 

_____ _

“Well, Trixie?” Ru hummed. 

_____ _

“Count me in.” 

_____ _

Ru gave a bright chuckle. “Oh, welcome to my world, honey!”

_____ _


	3. Katya's Tits, Ru's Tricks, & Trixie's Jacques Cabaret Debut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie forgot how much of a natural performer she was. She loved the lights, the crowd’s laughter, and just having her guitar in her hands. As she started to strum, she thought about how comfortable she was here. She was a different person onstage, and she liked this person more than anyone else. The lyrics came natural, out of her mouth as easy as talking. Her foot stamped on the stage, the sound of heel-on-wood made her grin. And when she hit the pause before the chorus, Trixie jumped, her feet stamping into the wood with a bright grin as she hit that sweet spot on her guitar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh lawdy, almighty, oh Jesus, I don't know what happened to me in this chapter, I gotta say. A lot happens, I know, I know. I thought about putting in a breaking point and putting some of this shit in chapter four, but I couldn't do it. So instead, I stayed up until 6AM to get this out. 
> 
> Chapter three was fun because I got quite a bit of Katya in there, and some of our other favorites! Also, I don't know if Chaja is a thing, but I'm making it one in this fic! :D
> 
> Thank you for the feedback! I am living for it! 
> 
> As always, Say hello to me [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! I'd really appreciate the company!

Trixie stared idly into her phone, watching as the screen lit with more missed calls and ignored messages. Her brother, Pearl, and even a few friends from her church were spamming her. The whole town would know about her breakdown by tomorrow, she was sure, and her stomach churned at the thought of the rumors. She already knew what they said about her. She already knew what her parents thought of her. 

Her phone lit up with a message from Pearl. 

**Pearl**  
8:06pm  
_val asked me 2 talk some sense into u_

Trixie sucked in a breath. No reason not to reply now. 

**Trixie**  
8:08pm  
_what did she tell u??_

**Pearl**  
8:09pm  
_SHE LIVES!_  
_not much tbh just that ur being crazzzzyyyy_  
_btw where u @_

**Trixie**  
8:11pm  
_Boston_

**Pearl**  
8:12pm  
_Ahahaha u r crazzyyy :P_  
_kinda mad u didn’t bring me_  
_when u coming home_. 

**Trixie**  
8:16pm  
_never_

It was surely less than a minute before her phone lit up again, this time with a call from Pearl. She answered it, tentatively. 

“Hello?” 

“Are you fucking crazy?” Pearl drawled. 

“No— well, kinda, I got offered a job here. And it’s a really good job, and the hotel room I’m in is pretty nice. It has a kitchenette, and—”

“Girl,” Pearl groaned, falling against her mattress. “Trix, you can’t just up and move, I mean, I support everyone leaving this town, but like…” 

“Pearl, I know. But, after the other night, I don’t think I can live there anymore.” 

“You wanna talk about it?” She asked after a moment. Trixie hesitated to answer. “Is it because you spent the night at Shea’s?” Trixie looked into her lap, nodding, although Pearl couldn’t see her.

“We didn’t do anything, Pearl! I’m not—”

“T, I know you didn’t. And it’s okay if you did.” 

Trixie creased her brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“… Nothing, Trixie, I’m just high.” Pearl laughed.

“Do you think—?”

“Trixie, I don’t wanna argue with you right now. I just found out my best friend moved out of the state and I didn’t get to say goodbye. I’m kinda upset, too.” 

Trixie scoffed. “Yeah, okay,” They sat in silence for a few minutes, Trixie fiddling with the hem of her jeans as she felt anger bubbling in her chest. “I just—” she groaned. “I don’t fucking understand why everyone thinks I’m a lesbian! I’m not… butch, or whatever it is! I’ve never kissed anyone or—”

“Don’t marginalize lesbians, okay, bitch? You don’t have to look a certain way to have your attraction... validated, or whatever it is.” She stressed. “Why does it matter to you so much? I mean, I’m a little gay, you don’t hate me, you’re not a Bible thumper, you’re actually an ally, like, why does the idea scare you so much?”

“Why does it matter? I’m just not—”

“Trixie!” Pearled laughed half-heartedly. “I know, it’s fine. It’s fine. Can we move on?”

“I’m just tired of being labeled all the fucking time.” 

Pearl smacked her lips together. “Alright, barbie, don’t get your plastic cunt in a twist.” 

Trixie belted out a soft laugh and flopped against her mattress, clutching the phone. “Fuck, I might be angry, but I miss your sedated-ass already.” 

“Then come home, move in with me, seriously, Trixie.” Pearl’s tone was light, a little slurred, but otherwise completely serious. 

“I know I probably should, but, girl, this job…” She laughed a little. “I’m gonna be working in a Cabaret, I’ll get to play guitar, harp, sing in front of tons of people.” She rolled onto her stomach, kicking her legs up. “I guess it’s super exclusive, and totally worth it.”

Pearl smiled. “Yeah, okay, but you’ll be back. They’re gonna take one look at those shabby boots of yours and tell you to get the hell out.” Pearl snorted. “Country trash.” 

Trixie let out a wild scream, kicking her legs. “I am not!”

Pearl laughed a little. “Hey, listen, can we talk tomorrow? Mom will kill me if I’m up any later, and Val needs an update, she’s called the house like… three times.” 

“It’s literally only nine.” 

“Church camp, Trixie.” 

“Oh, fuck, good luck with that, and, lemme know how they do without a guitarist, honey,” 

Pearl rolled her eyes. “Goodnight, bitch.” 

“Night, Pearl.” Trixie smiled softly before clicking the conversation to its end. She tossed her phone on to the night-stand. Pearl did nothing to mollify the idea that she might’ve made a bad decision, but it didn’t really matter. Trixie ticked the bedside lamp off and curled up beneath the covers, sighing into her sheets. At least she had her first day to look forward to.

✘✘✘

“Trixie!” RuPaul scurried toward the young blonde, arms out-stretched in greeting. “Trixie Mattell! I’m _so_ glad you decided to join us!” Before Trixie could even react, Ru had leaned in, placing kisses on both of Trixie’s cheeks, an action she awkwardly reciprocated.

To say Trixie Mattel was overwhelmed, was a gross understatement. As soon as she walked into Jacques, her stomach fell through her ass. She did not belong here. Dear Lord, she did not belong in Boston. The club was the chicest place she’d ever seen. High-walls, covered in photos of stars, most she’d never even heard of (but the photo of one Miss Dolly Parton certainly didn’t escape her eyes). There was a large stage, spanning the length of the room against the far wall, the curtains were closed, lights off, but there was a single mic stand, resting off to one side. A huge bar lined the wall adjacent to them, where a woman sat on it’s surface, speaking to a few customers. The place was beautiful. It screamed stardom, and style, but Trixie just felt out of place. Her brown boots, pink dress, and shabby, drugstore makeup didn’t really match. She should be in Wisconsin, scooping ice cream during the week, and playing guitar for her church on Sundays. Not Boston in a club full of fancies. 

“I’m really glad to be here!” Trixie laughed awkwardly. 

“So, what finally made you decide to join us?” Ru folded his hands, giving her a scrutinizing look. 

Trixie shrugged. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, right? How could I say no?” 

Ru gave her a considerate look. “Glad you think so,” He paused. “Is that why you’re nervous?”

“Oh, uh, just a lit—" 

“Honey, you’re shaking like a chihuahua in some young, white bitch’s purse.” The woman on the bar said with a laugh. She hopped down and approached them. 

“Bianca, don’t come for the new girl so soon.” Ru chided, but Trixie could see the small smile on his face. “I don’t think she’s quite used to humor like yours.” 

Bianca scoffed. “I’m just getting her warmed up.” She turned to Trixie. “I’m Bianca del Rio, I’ll be your stage manager.” Bianca held out a hand, and Trixie noticed long, black, acrylic nails stretching out of her fingertips. Before Trixie could reply, she added: “Sweetie, can I ask why in the hell you were playing your guitar in a muddy truck at a gas station? That shit isn’t normal.”

Trixie was a little taken back by the woman’s bluntness. “Oh, uh—” She scratched the back of her neck. “Why not? It got me this job, right?” She laughed.

“I had to know Ru for ten years and kiss his ass to get _this_ job,” RuPaul made a sort of indignant sound. “My point.” She began again. “You must be _something_ for Ru to welcome you as easily as he did.” And without thinking, Trixie just… 

“I am,” 

Ru gave a loud laugh, and Bianca looked thoroughly pleased with Trixie’s answer, despite the glowing blush coloring the blonde’s pale cheeks. 

RuPaul gave Trixie’s shoulder a squeeze. “Well, I have some business to take care of in my office. Bianca will give you a quick tour of the place, and then I hope you’ll stay for the show this evening. You can meet the cast and some of our crew,” He took Trixie’s hand and patted the top. “It was nice to see you again, Trixie. And welcome,” 

Trixie smiled at Ru. There was something about this man that seemed to calm her nerves, while also petrifying her to her very core. She liked him. He was completely, utterly intimidating, but in a good-fatherly-kind-of-way. She could get used to him as the boss. 

“Thank you for the opportunity.” 

Ru bowed out of the room and Bianca took Trixie’s arm. “Okay, kid, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Bianca was a tall woman, broad shoulders, but equally as broad hips. She was wearing a long, bright, pink blazer, and matching trousers. Her red hair stood out against her softly, tanned complexion, and her eye makeup was about three inches higher than Trixie would ever consider doing to herself.

“You might regret this decision once you get to know us.” Bianca gave Trixie a wink, and there was something playfully malicious about her tone. She gestured with her hand for Trixie to follow her and she did so, dutifully. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m not really about the whole pleasantry bullshit that most people decide to involve themselves in.” Bianca folded her hands as she turned to face Trixie again. “I don’t really give a fuck about your trip here, I’m a busy woman, and I’d rather just show you around and get you out of my hair.” A sickeningly, sweet smile twisted Bianca’s lips.

Trixie tugged at the ends of her long blonde hair to relax the little nerves Bianca had just stirred up. She wished Ru had stayed a little longer.

“That’s… yeah, that’s totally fine.”

“Great. Because I have a fucking club to run, and, lucky for you, a club that you are now employed in.” Bianca began. “And if you keep up this complicit attitude, we won’t have too many issues, you and I.” Trixie found it hard to come up with a response other than ‘okay’, and Bianca turned on her pumps to start the tour. She started towards a room in the back of the house.  
“Well, Ms. Mattel, this is our sound and light booth.” She said coolly. “You’ll come back into this little room when you need a wireless microphone, and to tell our sound guy, Ron, what you need done, when, and during what performance.” There was a wide window that allowed Trixie to peer inside. Equipment sat on a countertop, and there were two chairs sitting before it all. “Ru will come back occasional to see how we sound from back of the house. But, anyway, I was told you play guitar. So, if you’re scheduled to play live, you’ll need to tell Ron that you need an amp and a mic stand. He’ll set it up, and all you’ll have to worry about is plugging the damn thing in and doing your job. Any questions?” Trixie shook her head and peered back in the room one more time. “Good,”  
She pointed at the bar, just a few feet diagonal of the booth. “We have one bartender, his name is Chi Chi. Good kid, you’ll probably run into him a lot because he likes to hang out in the dressing room with the cast.” She shrugged. “We also have quite a few waitresses, but they rarely interact with the performers.” Trixie cast her gaze to the bar, where a muscular, deep-skinned man stood, talking to a few customers. He was wearing a pair of black slacks, and what was sure to be a woman’s, white blouse. He had quite a bit of makeup on as well, shimmering, purple eyeshadow that made his eyes pop, and a soft pink lip that Trixie thought looked significantly better than her own.

“Does he always do his makeup like that?” Trixie questioned.

“Does it matter?” Bianca asked, walking through the masses of tables in the center of the house. 

“No, I’ve just never seen a man wear that much makeup before…?” Trixie struggled to keep up with the woman, she was blowing through everything. While it wasn’t exactly complicated, it wasn’t the warm welcome she was expecting. 

Bianca scoffed, but didn’t breach the subject anymore. “The stage is as straight forward as it gets.” she said, stomping up the steps onto the platform. “Watch out for floor mics, they’re expensive.” she pointed to the black plates lining the edge of the stage. She stopped center before speaking again. “You have your left-wing.” She gestured towards it. “And your right. There’s prop tables on both sides, as well as costume racks for quick changes. You are responsible for your own shit. We’ll get you the prop, the costume, whatever, but you should always know where it is and when you need it, you hear me?” 

“Yes, of course.” Trixie nodded.

“Good.” Bianca grabbed Trixie’s arm and led her backstage, “Like I said,” She pointed to a few tables and a clothing rack. Both were messily covered in hats, batons, mics, and little trinkets. “Prop tables, costumes.” She tugged Trixie through a door, hidden by the black paint that matched the walls. They entered another pitch hallway, with a few florescent lights guiding their way. Trixie could just barely see pictures taped onto the black paint, people she assumed were the cast posing in costumes, and with props, instruments, etc. Bianca was walking too fast for Trixie to study them, but she could vaguely make out dates, scribbled below in sharpie. Bianca scoffed from in front of her. 

“I’ve told them at least a million times not to write on these walls, if I catch you doing it too, I’ll skin you alive.” Trixie grimaced, but nodded. 

“I got it,”

“I’m taking you to the dressing room. It’s at the very end of the hall, and it’s never locked. We have a back entrance, that only myself and Ru have a key for, and that is almost _always_ locked. No one can really get in back here, if you’re worried about perverts,” They stopped at a yet another black door, except this one was covered, top to bottom, in pictures and sharpie. There were signatures that Trixie really couldn’t make out, some more dates, and some rather… colorful language. Bianca wretched the door open, and white-light blinded Trixie almost immediately. When here eyes adjusted, another girl stood in the middle of the room.

“God fucking damnit, Katya!” Bianca exclaimed.

The girl, named Katya, apparently, was standing in the middle of the dressing room with a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. Although, the last thing Trixie saw was the tobacco, no, instead, she saw Katya’s tits in full attention, and the woman didn’t even bother to cover them. She stood only in fishnets and a pair of black panties, proudly on display. Trixie choked on the little bit of oxygen still left in her lungs and she wanted to cover her eyes, but she couldn’t fucking move. Too captivated by the woman’s near perfect physique. 

“Free the nipple, free the country, Bianchor!” Katya spoke around the cigarette. 

“Really queen?” Bianca exhaled sharply through her nose. “And I said you couldn’t fucking smoke in here anymore!” 

“Who’s this?” Katya asked, swiftly changing the subject from her bad habit to Trixie. She blew a bit of smoke out of the corner of her mouth, and smiled at Trixie, as if she wasn’t a stranger at all. Trixie finally had the decency to look away, shielding her face from Katya’s chest. Although she was sure the woman already saw her staring. 

“Trixie Mattel, our new cast member. And clearly someone who would appreciate it if you covered your fucking mosquito bites.” Trixie heard a scream, and when she made the mistake of looking up, she realized it was Katya, bouncing and flailing about in her laughter. She resumed shielding her eyes shortly after, trying to bleach the sight of Katya’s chest jiggling under the fluorescent light. 

“Jesus, Katya! Put. On. A. Shirt.” Bianca insisted. 

Katya snorted and tugged on a tattered, red tee-shirt, putting out her cigarette on a nearby ash-tray. Trixie looked up at the woman’s face, substantially more comfortable now that Katya was dressed. She had short blonde hair with little budding waves and bangs. Her eyes were bright, happy-looking, and her _teeth_. Normally, Trixie wouldn’t be so fixated on someone’s mouth, but Katya’s was p e r f e c t. Straight, white, proportionate teeth, and red lipstick made her mouth look so… alluring. Trixie was fully staring(again). This woman was the epitome of beauty. She licked her lips at Trixie, fully aware of what she was doing. 

“Close your mouth, or you’ll catch flies, new girl,” Katya smacked her lips, which successfully knocked Trixie out of her trance. Her blush returned, brighter this time, and she looked down at her feet.

Bianca impatiently cleared her throat. “Where is the rest of the cast? They have a show tonight!” 

Katya gave Bianca a dismissive gesture. “They’ll be here. Most of them are ready, they just wanted some McDonald’s.” 

“Why didn’t you go?” Bianca asked. 

“Oh, I have pre-show stretches, a cigarette, and my daily sacrifice to Satan.” Katya looked at Trixie expectantly, watching as she grimaced. “Kidding! I’ve haven’t talked to Satan in years, mama,”

Bianca let out a little laugh at that. “Ru thought _I’d_ scare her off!” 

Trixie stepped forward, hesitantly and held out a hand to Katya once she deemed it safe. “It’s nice to meet you, Kat—Cot—”

Katya grinned and took Trixie’s hand, kissing it. “Yekaterina Petrovna Zamololdchikova,” she tossed her hair. “But you can call me “ _Kat_ -ya, Also, it’s an absolute _pleasure_ to meet me.”

“Uh,” Trixie laughed a little, biting her lip. “Yeah, okay. Tell yourself that.” 

Bianca laughed. “Okay, Trixie, I’m going to leave you with Katya since you’re getting along perfectly. She’ll answer any questions. You can find me in the house if you need anything. But, uh, just don’t need anything.” Bianca gave Trixie a brief wink before disappearing out the door, slamming it behind her. 

“Do my tits really make you uncomfortable?” Katya mused softly, groping herself in one of the vanity mirrors along the opposite wall. “I mean, my tits are nice. Not as big as yours, but like… a decent handful, right?” she turned to Trixie in the doorway. “Wanna feel?”

“No, no I do not.” Trixie pursed her lips. Whether it was because Katya was the most relaxed person she’d ever met, the most beautiful, or because she just saw her tits (and that’s a pretty good ice-breaker), Trixie felt inexplicably comfortable around this woman. She seemed to be teeming with life, and she could maybe see them being close friends. She took a seat on a couch that was situated in the center of the room. It was covered in clothes and costumes that she did her best to avoid crushing with her wide hips. 

“So,” Katya fixed her hair in the mirror. “Are you a fellow homosexual?” 

Trixie coughed. “Uh, sorry?” 

“What? I’m just asking. You kinda give off a vibe, you know?” 

“No.” Trixie pursed her lips. “No, I don’t.”

Katya turned towards Trixie, cocking her head little at the blonde. She considered Trixie before grinning. “Either you’re in the closet or in denial. My gaydar is pretty accurate” 

“First of all,” Trixie crooked her lips out of anger. “Fuck off.” Katya made a loud sound, her jaw slackening a little, she was fully laughing at Trixie. 

“Listen, no one here cares. I’m a lesbian, Ru has a husband, for real, you can be out here.”

“I’m straight.”

“Yeah, okay. Tell yourself that.” Katya turned back to the mirror, grinning. Trixie glared at her, caught between the idea of letting the teasing pass, or ignoring Katya, for the sake of setting boundaries. She looked at her nails before speaking. 

“At least I don’t look like a Michelle Pfeiffer stand-in,” Trixie said coolly. Katya doubled over in screaming laughter, and it caused Trixie to smile a little. She laughed a little like a smoker, loud, scratchy, but Trixie would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the sound completely. 

“Oh, bitch, you have got _nerve_!” Katya dramatically tossed herself on the couch beside Trixie, leaning her head up so she could gaze at her. “Let’s party.” 

It wasn’t long before the rest of the cast joined them in their dressing room. She met Ginger, a short, stout, red-head who was a southern boy from Florida. He was trying to make it on Broadway but worked here between auditions. Then she met Aja, a drag queen from Brooklyn who moved to Boston for school but dropped out once he got his job at Jacques. He wouldn’t tell her what he was studying.  
Aja was dating Chi Chi, the bartender with a ton of makeup that Trixie had noticed earlier in the evening. Trixie liked both men a lot. Aja was bright and spunky, and Chi Chi had nice, slow, southern drawl to his speech. They were adorable together. There was Alaska and Violet. Violet was a stunner. She had the nicest complexion, the smallest waist, and on top of it all, she was hilarious. She had a bit of an attitude and didn’t spend much time talking to Trixie, but Trixie didn’t really mind. Alaska was scrawny, young, and pretty cute. He was talking on the phone when he came in and gave Trixie a half-wave. He seemed nice, just… busy. Then, there was Kim. An adorably quiet girl who had been raised in South Korea. She had a soft lisp, but nevertheless, talked with Trixie the entire time she got ready. She was two years older than Trixie, and had gone to cosmetology school, which led to the two of them discussing makeup, and Kim’s promise to introduce Trixie to some ‘real’ makeup products once they both got paid.  
She found she adored Katya, maybe the most. And it seemed Katya adored her. She didn’t leave Trixie’s side almost all night. Her presence was a little overwhelming at first, but Trixie caught on quickly. They found they played the same kind of games, enjoyed the same kind of humor, and existed on the ‘same plane of consciousness’, as Katya put it. Trixie liked her new crew. They made her feel at peace for the first time in days. 

“So,” Kim spoke softly, using her white eye-liner pencil on Trixie’s waterline. “Wisconsin?” 

“Yeah, a small town just outside of Milwaukee. Well…” Trixie laughed. “More like the woods outside of Milwaukee.” 

“Are you a redneck?” Katya feigned Ginger’s accent. 

“My mom and step-dad are.” Trixie laughed. “Guns, Confederate flag, and all.” Trixie let out a little laugh. “Oh, and the whole: ‘If the Lawd can lead yew to it, ‘e can lead yew through it!’ mentality.” Katya busted out into her wild cackle, flailing her arms around. 

“Ladies!” Bianca peeked her head in the doorway, “We’re on in fifteen! Trixie, you’re gonna sit out in the house with Ru, okay? She’ll introduce you at the end of the show. And then you can play… whatever…” Trixie whipped around in her seat.

“ _What?_ You told me I was just going to watch tonight! I don’t even have my guitar!” The color had completely drained from Trixie’s face, she felt cold, rigid. She wasn’t fucking prepared for this. She hadn’t even thought of a song for her first show. 

“Surprise! I lied! Ru changed his mind last minute, thought you’d make a great closer.” Bianca slapped her clipboard. “There’s a spare guitar backstage, I suggest you fuck with it before you go on. I told Ron too, so there’s an amp all set up for you.” Bianca disappeared through the door. 

“You’ll be _fine_ , honey.” Ginger gave a dismissive gesture. “Ru wouldn’t pull that last-minute shit on you if he didn’t believe in you,” 

“Mama Ru is testing you under pressure.” Violet looked up from filing her nails. “Don’t fuck up or she’ll fire you,” Ginger made an irritated noise and tossed his makeup brush at her, but she dodged just in time. “I’m not gonna sugar coat it. And besides, if she was shit, Ru wouldn’t have hired her in the first place. In theory, you have nothing to worry about.” Violet shrugged. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna be fine.” Katya squeezed Trixie’s shoulder. 

“I don’t even have a song picked out!” Trixie sunk into her seat. 

“Fuck the song, she can’t go out in that outfit!” Alaska’s lip curled. “I mean, you’re gorgeous, but… it’s kinda casual for what we do. The dress, the boots… if you’re gonna sound like shit, don’t look like shit…” she trailed off. Katya flicked Alaska in the ear, who just shrugged, “I’m being honest!”

Was it too late to go back to Wisconsin? If she left in the morning, she could be back before midnight. She could move in with Pearl in Milwaukee, get a job waitressing, and figure out her life from there. Maybe go to school for makeup, or music if she was—

“Trixie?” Katya waved her hand in front of Trixie’s face. “I found this on the costume rack. Can you try it on?”

“Eight minutes!” Bianca called. 

“I’d hurry,” Katya smiled with those dazzlingly, perfect teeth, and Trixie felt herself pushing to a stand. Trixie stepped behind the clothing rack just as a few of her new friends were stepping out to go into the wings. “I’ll wait here for you. I don’t go on for a while.” 

“Thanks, Katya,”

After realizing the pink thing that Katya had handed her was a jumpsuit, Trixie tugged her dress off and slipped the jumpsuit on, shimmying it over her hips. The sleeves and legs had flares, and it was super cute. Maybe a little tighter than what Trixie would’ve picked, but it’s not like she had a lot of options. 

“Oh! Hey!” Katya tossed a pair of white platforms at Trixie. “Put those on too. You’re not going out in those boots.” 

“I don’t think you’re in any position to give _me_ fashion advice,” Trixie teased, buckling the shoes. “That problem-ass-pattern on your bodysuit speaks for itself.”

“Bitch, I’m chic as fuck. Fish as fuck. Look at me.” Katya was doing a little spin as Trixie stepped out from behind the rack. 

“It’s a little tight,” Trixie pursed her lips. 

“Bitch—” Katya bit her lip. “No. You look fucking gorgeous. Dainty, dandy, darling, debonair, Dolly Parton realness, mama!” Katya snapped her fingers and took Trixie by the waist. “You’re gonna kill it.” 

✘✘✘

After tuning the guitar and adjusting the neck strap (with the help of Katya, of course), Trixie found her way into the house. Ru was in his seat at the edge of the stage, dressed in bright, green slacks and a black dress-shirt. He looked crisp, clean. Trixie smiled at him. Aja was onstage lip syncing to a P!nk song. She was killing the game too, Trixie thought. The crowd was pleasantly rowdy. 

Ru gave Trixie an innocent smile, as if he hadn’t completely turned her up-side down, not ten minutes ago. He looked her up and down and gave her a thumbs-up.  
At least he approved of the outfit.  
The show was going well. Ru introduced each and every act, playing games with the audience, cracking jokes, even with the endless pit of nerves in her stomach, Trixie was having fun. The house was packed, every table, every seat at the bar full. She even noticed a few stragglers, standing along the back.  
After Aja performed, Ginger sang some showtunes with Kim and Violet. Alaska performed a comedic parody she wrote (which was actually hilarious), and they did several group performances. A lot of comedic skits that Trixie was thankful to see. It seemed like four years of high-school improv would be rather useful here. Katya performed last of the bunch, and she fucking blew her away. She defied any human, physical limitation. She was pulling herself into twists, stretches, backbends, the bitch fucking jumped off the stage and landed into a split for her finale. Trixie had an inexplicable urge to throw dollar bills, or roses, or… something. She wanted to show the utmost appreciation for her art. But, instead, she stood and shouted Katya’s name, clapping wildly. RuPaul climbed back on stage. 

“Exciting, isn’t she? Only a Russian whore can bend like that bitch.” After the crowd settled a bit, Ru continued. “Now, now, I know we always close with Katya, but I have a special treat for you all. Trixie, could you come onstage?” She made her way to Ru’s side as a Katya brought Trixie her guitar and helped her put the strap over her head.  
“This is Trixie Mattel, our newest cast member,” He placed a hand on Trixie’s shoulder. “She’s a little bit country, a little bit rock’n’roll” Trixie glanced briefly into the wings as Ru rambled about her. She could see all her castmates, practically trampling each other to watch. Way to bring on the pressure. “…anyway, I think I’ll let her performance do the talking,” Ru hopped off-stage, and Trixie moved to the mic. 

“So,” Trixie reached for the mic-stand, lowering it. “Sorry, I’m a little short,” she joked. “Uhm, so, I had absolutely no idea I was performing tonight, which is a fantastic way to start a new job, thanks Ru” Trixie teased. “I don’t get much stage-fright, but I almost shit myself at the prospect of… well, this.” She gestured grandly to the audience. It was hard to make out any faces under the stage-lights, which comforted Trixie greatly. “I grew up in the backwoods of Wisconsin, which means most of my performance chops comes from church and high school talent shows, just so I can set the bar for you guys. Anyway, I kinda mulled over what song I thought I should do for the ten minutes I had to get ready tonight,” The crowd laughed. “I come from a very boring life, with boring country people, and I used to sing this driving home from my day job, scooping ice cream for baby-Wisconsin-cowboys and cowgirls.” Trixie adjusted her guitar. “This is _9 to 5_ by Miss Dolly Parton.”

Trixie forgot how much of a natural performer she was. She loved the lights, the crowd’s laughter, and just having her guitar in her hands. As she started to strum, she thought about how comfortable she was here. She was a different person onstage, and she liked this person more than anyone else. The lyrics came natural, out of her mouth as easy as talking. Her foot stamped on the stage, the sound of heel-on-wood made her grin. And when she hit the pause before the chorus, Trixie jumped, her feet stamping into the wood with a bright grin as she hit that sweet spot on her guitar. 

_"Workin' 9 to 5,_ _what a way to make a livin'_  
_Barely gettin' by,_ _it's all takin' and no givin'_  
_They just use your mind and they never give you credit_  
_It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it_  
_9 to 5,_ _for service and devotion_  
_You would think that I would deserve a fat promotion_  
_Want to move ahead but the boss won't seem to let me_  
_I swear sometimes that man is out to get me…"_

She felt the crowd come back to life, she heard a chorus of ‘YES BITCH’ from the wings as she pranced around the microphone. She felt this song in her soul, she felt the music strike a chord in her veins, and Trixie’s adrenaline rose, and rose, and rose. She breezed through the verses, breezed through the chorus again. Ru could fire her five minutes from now, and it wouldn’t matter a thing. Not after feeling like this. 

_"…9 to 5,_ _yeah they got you where they want you_  
_There's a better life,_ _and you dream about it, don't you?_  
_It's a rich man's game no matter what they call it_  
_And you spend your life puttin' money in his wallet_  
_9 to 5,_ _working 9 to 5_ "  
Trixie struck the last string on her guitar and stood, panting, grinning, in the center of the stage. Before she knew it, she had bunches of hands, wrapped tightly around her. Her friends had sped on stage to wrap her in their arms, laughing and cheering so loud she couldn’t think. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so free. The crowd was wild with cheers and acclamation. Trixie could cry from this whole experience. 

She was never leaving Boston. Not after this.


	4. Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All Your Issues!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You were meant to be here,” Katya simpered. 
> 
> “What?” 
> 
> “You were meant to be here. For whatever reason, Trixie. You were meant to come here,” Katya tugged Trixie a little closer into her side, a mischievous grin on her face. “And we’re gonna be best friends because of it.”
> 
> “Don’t start with your witch-shit, girl. Witch-bitch, white-ass, spirit hoodoo,” Aja rolled his eyes and turned back to Chi Chi, giving him a soft kiss before returning to removing the makeup from his face. 
> 
> “It’s not witch-shit! Trixie is supposed to be here!” Katya stubbed out her cigarette. “Obviously!” 
> 
> “I’m glad I’m here,” Trixie said with finality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh, hello friendos! I am so sorry this chapter is a little late! I have been very sick with a case of salmonella and life got very busy! Anyway, here is my attempt at a chapter 4! I'd like to thank you for all your patience, love, and support! And keep that feedback mama! I live for the comments! They make my day! 
> 
> I really hope you guys are enjoying the story thus far and know that you all have my heart <3 
> 
> Don't forget to leave them good kudos and come visit me on Tumblr [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)

Trixie could still feel the rush in her bones, the heat of the stage-lights burning her skin, even as she was exiting into the wings. Ru was announcing some kind of praise and a gentle goodnight to the crowd, but Trixie couldn’t focus on his words. She couldn’t focus on anything but the playback of applause in her head, and the words of admiration from her friends. Katya had wrapped a firm arm around Trixie’s waist and steering her back into the dressing room. Butterflies fluttered yet again in her stomach, but Trixie was too high to analyze their meaning. In fact, she couldn’t really think too well after her performance. 

“Another bitch to add to the wall,” Alaska teased. “Trixie, you gotta sign your name tonight,” 

Trixie laughed. “Bianca said—”

“Not to? Did you see the damn wall?” Alaska held the door separating the wings and the dressing hallway. Once everyone had passed through, he linked arms with Katya. 

“Katya, you need to grab your polaroid! She needs her photo up too!” Kim chimed from behind them. She was bouncing on her toes to make up for being shorter than Trixie. 

“It’s on the shelf in the dressing room. Bianca put it up when I wouldn’t stop snapping shit photos of her!” she wheezed. “But, I saw Ron get a nice shot of her in Dollyworld,” 

Violet lit up a cigarette. “Ron’ll probably use that for masturbation material for a month. You’re so his type,”

“Ron is gay,” Alaska argued. 

“Pffft, you fucking wish. He’s as straight as an arrow and likes pretty, pink, barbie dolls,” 

They entered the dressing room in a cluster, Violet hanging back to smoke while Katya gladly lit up inside the room. She sat down beside Trixie on the couch, her arm flung lazily around her thin shoulders as she blew smoke. Most everyone began changing or taking off their show makeup, soft chatter bouncing back and forth. Trixie found it hard to jump into conversation, everyone’s words were mixing, jumbling in with booming laughter and general slurs at one another. She had calmed down by now and was in the middle of shoving her platforms off her sore feet when Ru had entered. 

“Where my girls at?” He belted, causing many of her castmates to holler in response. “I don’t think tonight could’ve gone any better! Especially,” He turned his gaze to Trixie. “For you, Miss Mattel!” Ru walked over to Trixie and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I had to say, when I saw you playing for the first time, I knew it. I knew you would fit in. Our circumstances were… a bit odd, I know,” He gave Trixie a pointed look. “But we’re all a little odd here, can I get an amen?” 

Katya yelled around her cigarette. “A-fucking-men!”

“Where _did_ you find her, actually?” Ginger posed. 

“In a gas station parking lot,” Trixie snorted. The absurdity of her whole situation had hit the night before. A tall man in a gas station had offered her a job and she accepted. With no idea of the legitimacy of his offer, she accepted. RuPaul smiled at Trixie. 

“In the back of the muddiest truck I have _ever_ seen,” he groaned. 

“Wait—” Violet looked incredulous. “You’re not kidding? Mama, you guys aren’t kidding?” 

“No, she was playing in the bed of her truck while Georges and I were filling up—” 

“That— I feel like were in some shitty teen movie. Why _were_ you in Boston, Trixie. Aren’t you from Wyoming?” 

“Wisconsin,”

“Actually, yes, why _were_ you here?” Ru cocked his head. 

“Uh,” Trixie racked her brain for a moment, looking for something appropriate to say. She didn’t want to lie, of course not, but the truth was rather… intense. “My… family’s kinda fucked,” she screwed her face. 

“It’s the Confederate flags,” Katya said coolly, dashing her cigarette on the ashtray beside her. 

“Are you saying you… basically ran away from home?” Aja asked as he scrubbed the lipstick off Chi Chi’s mouth. 

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it, I guess,” Trixie cleared her throat. “I had a hard night, a little money, and a tank full of gas. I didn’t know where the fuck I was going, I just went—”

“You were meant to be here,” Katya simpered. 

“What?” 

“You were meant to be here. For whatever reason, Trixie. You were meant to come here,” Katya tugged Trixie a little closer into her side, a mischievous grin on her face. “And we’re gonna be best friends because of it.”

“Don’t start with your witch-shit, girl. Witch-bitch, white-ass, spirit hoodoo,” Aja rolled his eyes and turned back to Chi Chi, giving him a soft kiss before returning to removing the makeup from his face. 

“It’s not witch-shit! Trixie is supposed to be here!” Katya stubbed out her cigarette. “Obviously!” 

“I’m glad I’m here,” Trixie said with finality. 

“So, what did your family say?” Violet interjected again. She had just taken off her corset and Trixie could see where the structure had bit into her skin. She was littered with red marks. “You know, when you up and left?” 

“Uh, my step-dad is probably burning my shit in a ceremonial bonfire,” 

“I’ve always wanted to go to a bonfire,” Katya said thoughtfully. “Trixie, let’s have a bonfire at our wedding,” 

Trixie sputtered a little at that, and Katya, well Katya just grinned. 

✘✘✘

After stripping out of their costumes, the cast had moved to the house. The last of the crowd had diminished an hour or so ago, and it was time for the crew of the Lounge to take over. Trixie was still floating, high above any self-doubt that she had in Wisconsin. For five minutes, five seconds, she was going to be the person she always dreamed herself to be. Any pre-existing tension Trixie Mattel might’ve felt had melted away after strumming that final chord. She was good enough to be here. She was good enough for herself. Wasn’t that all that mattered?  
She was sitting at the bar, her bare feet tucked under ass as she drank some oddly, colorful cocktail Chi Chi had made her. Katya sat at her side, her unshod feet sitting on Trixie’s thighs as they spoke. The rest of her new friends sat scattered about the house, chatting, drinking, and enjoying each other. Trixie had never experienced a group like this. One that clearly loved and accepted each other so easily. Especially Katya. Katya could never live somewhere like Wisconsin, she would disturb the peace. She could take Trixie’s entire town and knock it right off its feet with just the force of her laughter. She liked the thought of that. 

Katya was rambling, arms flailing gracelessly as she spoke. “I’m telling you it’s the best fucking movie on the planet. It’s about finding love _and_ God!”

“I’ve never even heard of it,” Trixie mused. “ _Contact_? Who was in it?”

“Jodie fucking Foster! Matthew McConaughey? Ugh,” Katya threw up her hands one last time before sipping from the bottle of Coke on the counter. 

Violet strutted over to them, slung an arm around Katya’s thin shoulders, and said: “It’s the worst fucking movie I have ever seen,” 

“That’s because you kept trying to fuck me during the best parts, you twat!” 

“That’s because I didn’t come over to watch _Contact_ , I came over to eat your puss,” Violet pressed a kiss to Katya’s cheek, leaving a purple lip-print in her place. 

“You guys are together?” Trixie asked. 

Violet swiped Katya’s drink off the counter and took a sip. “Not anymore,”

“Oh, that su—” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Violet leaned in real close to Katya’s face, tauntingly. “Katya sucks with relationships!”

“Uh, rude!” Katya nudged Violet in the boob. 

She licked her lips and continued to speak. “Now we get to fuck whoever we want, whenever we want, right Katya? Even thought we all know you miss me,” she soothed.

“Relationships are bullshit, and I don’t miss your fish-scented cunt,” Katya quipped. “What about you, Trixie? Got someone way back in Wisconsin you’re missing?” 

Trixie shook her head. “No, no, not really,” 

“Not really?” 

“Not at all,” Trixie corrected. “There’s not a lot of pickings in a town as small as mine,” 

“No lesbians?” Katya flashed those perfect teeth, and for the first time, Trixie wanted to knock them out of her mouth. She did her best to fight the unpleasant spiral of emotion that was slowly building her chest. The longer she stared at Katya, the higher the tension rose, and she had to force herself to look at Violet. She was sipping from Katya’s straw rather lazily, oblivious to the atmosphere around her, and even still, Violet looked smug. The situation was far too comical to her. Comical and completely irritating. 

“Do you have some sort of brain malfunction where you can’t tell that you’re being a complete fucking ass hole?” Trixie’s tone was forceful, and not even the sound of Violet’s laughter broke her hard stare. Katya didn’t laugh, instead, her smile fell. 

“That actually bothers you?” It was more of a gentle realization than a question. Katya was gazing at her, softly, quizzically, and Trixie was caught off-guard by the amount of consideration her expression held. 

Violet lofted her brows. “Oh, wait, Katya hurt your feelings?” She looked incredulous, her impeccably painted brow accentuating her confusion. 

Trixie opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The wind had been torn from her sails, and she felt stranded in unchartered waters. There’s no way she would be able to keep up with her insecurities here. No way. 

“N- no!” Trixie laughed half-heartedly. “No, of course not, I’m just fucking with Katya,” Trixie fiddled with the straw in her drink. Katya gave Trixie a knowing glance. “I think I’m gonna go—"

“I’ll go with you,” Katya snatched her keds from under the bar, grabbing Trixie’s boots with them. 

“Kat, you don’t even know where I’m going,” 

“I’ll go wherever you go,” Katya sat back, drinking the little bit of coke left in her bottle after Violet. “Wait! I know somewhere cool we can go!” 

Violet made a disgusted sound. “Don’t take her to your place,”

“It’s in the basement! You should come see it!” Katya exclaimed, ignoring Violet’s teasing. “We all hang out down there from time to time—”

“No, we don’t,” 

“Well, Trixie and I will!” 

“I think I’ll take a raincheck—” Trixie began.

“No! Please!” Katya begged, placing a hand on Trixie’s knee. 

“Even if you are gonna go make-out with Katya do— Ow! Fucking cunt!” Katya had jabbed one bony elbow into Violet’s ribcage. Not that it stopped Trixie from knowing what she was going to say, but… it was a nice gesture. Violet’s eyes were cold and trained on Katya, who was sipping her drink innocently. Trixie gave her a considerate look, trying to suppress the urge to grin. 

Trixie huffed a playful sigh. “Come on, I guess, where is your hobo hut?” she teased, holding out a hand for Katya. Jumping up, almost immediately, from her seat, Katya laced her fingers in Trixie’s and tugged her towards the stage. Violet said something unintelligible behind them, but Katya’s short little legs already had Trixie stumbling back into the wings. 

“Everyone in the cast has crashed on my couch at least once,” Katya pushed open the backstage doors, back into the hallway “So if you ever get drunk and can’t get home, I got you,” 

Trixie was only half-listening when the photos on the wall caught her eye for the third time that evening. 

“Wait! Wait! I didn’t get to look at these earlier!” She pulled Katya to a halt. 

The wall was littered in old show posters and dim pictures. They were captioned with dates in messy, silver scrawl, and it was clear there was no rhyme or reason to their existence. Trixie ran her fingers over the few she saw her cast in. Katya was sprawled in most of them, decorated by some intricate costume, and in some pose. She saw one with Katya and Violet, lip-locked in the background of a cast photo while Ginger and Kim beamed at the lens. There were several action shots. Trixie couldn’t really tell what they were performing, but it was surely some kind of skit. Katya had a stuffed shark on her leg and Trixie couldn’t help but chuckle at how stupid she looked. 

“Oh! We have to get the one of you Ron took! Then you can sign your name! Everybody has a ‘first-performance’ picture,” Katya said softly, examining the one with her and Violet. 

Trixie laughed. “So, you have one of your first night?” 

Katya made a face and scanned the wall of photos before pointing to one. “There,” 

Trixie busted out laughing. “Oh my God! Why is your blush _blue_? You look like a fucking dumpster fire!” Trixie teased. In the photo, Katya’s hair was long, shining bright blonde beneath the stage-lights, and she looked delirious. Her mouth hung open as she guided an audience member to touch one of her breasts. It was the most ridiculous photo Trixie had ever seen… and she wanted a copy. “How old were you?” 

“Uh,” Katya was still smirking as she pondered. “Probably nineteen? That was like… seven years ago?” 

“I’m nineteen,” 

“No. No, you are not,” Katya scrunched up her nose. 

“Yes, I am, which makes you old as fuck,” 

“Twenty-six is not old-as-fuck,” 

“Old-as-fuck,” 

Katya rolled her eyes and ran her finger to another picture. “Speaking of old, There’s Ru and his husband after they opened this place,” 

Ru and Georges were embracing in the front of the club. The place looked brand-new, with a polished sign and bright, bright lights. She didn’t know Ru very well, and Georges at all, but the idea that it all started there… it made her feel blessed to know them. 

“Cute. Doesn’t mean you’re not old,” Katya made an irritated noise and grabbed Trixie’s arm, tugging her away from the wall and back down the hall. She was snickering as Katya pulled out her keys, unlocking a door across from the dressing-room. 

“You’re a real cunt, Tracy,” Katya pushed opened her door. “Watch the steps, it’s a long way down,” 

Trixie made her way down into the cellar, Katya right on her heels. She had shut the door behind them and plunged the narrow walkway into complete blackness. When she hit carpet, she stopped to wait for Katya.

“Ugh, sorry about no lights, hold up—” With the clank of keys, Katya rushed across the room and flipped a switch that showered them in dull, fluorescent light. Once Trixie’s eyes adjusted, she took a quick look around.  
It was simple, a little messy, but certainly livable. It smelled heavily of cigarettes and Trixie realized Katya probably chain-smoked down here. There was a couch, identical to the one in the dressing room, situated in front of a television in the center of the room. A coffee table, littered with empty packs of cigarettes and a full ashtray sat between them. Katya was busying herself around the room, picking up a few discarded clothing items, and tossing a quilt over the back of the couch.

“It’s nice,” Trixie said softly, taking a seat on the couch. 

“Yeah, Ru is kinda the best,” Katya, after tossing her clothes through another door, joined Trixie on the couch. “So,” 

“So?” 

“You wanna tell me why my jokes get on your nerves so bad?” Katya placed a hand on Trixie’s knee. “I don’t mean to, like, offend you, or anything,” 

“Uh, I just don’t appreciate being called a lesbian?” Trixie creased her brow. 

“Yeah, but, why? I’m a lesbian. It’s great. It’s a compliment.” Katya looked smug. 

“Great for you, maybe,” Trixie fiddled with the end of her dress. She wished she was still in her jumpsuit from earlier. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Just— good for you,” Trixie shrugged. “I don’t know what else you want me to say,” 

“Trixie, are you a homophobe?”

“My best friend is Bi,” She argued. 

“Doesn’t mean you’re not a homophobe, she probably doesn’t appreciate being the ‘token-gay-friend’,” 

“She’s not,” 

“Uh huh, well, you are from Wyoming. So—”

“ _Wisconsin!_ ” 

“Look, I just want to know if you’re a complete cunt! I wanna I know how to handle this because I’m not gonna work with someone who’s working against me,” Katya fired back. “I’m not gonna let someone in here who could hurt my friends,” 

“Alright! Jesus, alright! I’m not a homophobe, Katya! It’s just—” Trixie took a deep breath. “Everyone kinda… _assumes_ that about me and it gets really fucking old, really fucking quick,” 

“So? I mean, not to sound like an ass, but there are worse things people could think of you,” She paused. “They could think you’re a homophobe,” Katya nudged Trixie’s shoulder with a grin. 

“It just… hasn’t always had the best of connotations,” Trixie began. “It’s not about being an actual lesbian, everyone just assumed because I hung out with _that_ group of people, I was a…lesbian, too, and it… suddenly made me different. Not just different, but wrong. Parents told their kids not to talk to us, teacher’s made our lives living hells, all that shit,”

Katya nodded patiently. “No one stood up for you?” 

“Pearl would. She’s my best friend, and she would get in people’s face in our defense. She was always the loud-mouth,” Trixie smiled at the thought. “Me? I was just kinda guilty by association,”

“You’re not guilty. There’s nothing wrong with who we are. There’s nothing wrong with you if you are actually gay, Trixie.” Trixie felt her face heat up, and the feeling of uncomfortability settled in her chest. She didn’t like this conversation, not with Pearl, not with Katya. 

“Yeah, I know,” she said simply. The easy answer. 

“You don’t act like you know,” Katya wrapped a comforting arm around Trixie’s shoulders. “I dated guys when I was a kid… I used to tell everyone that I was bisexual in high school. Although, that was the least of my issues in high school,” Katya snorted. 

“I don’t want to be labeled,” 

“Sometimes labels can give you power,” 

“Ugh, you sound like an old lady.” Trixie snickered, tossing her head back. 

“Oh, fuck off. We were having a good moment,” Katya was grinning, her fingers thrumming softly against Trixie’s shoulder. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Might as well, I just poured my life story out,” 

Katya laughed. “Well, have you ever been with a girl? With anyone?” 

“Mm, no. A lot of people avoided me and Pearl in high school. Girls and guys,” Trixie shrugged. 

“I mean, you’re in Boston. No one in Wisconsin will know if you… fool around, a little,” 

Trixie huffed out a breath, unable to look up at Katya. She was right. Katya was absolutely right. Trixie had been presented with the opportunity to be whoever she wanted to be with whoever she wanted to be with. A rare, and yet, perfect opportunity for her to find herself. Even though she already knew she wasn’t the slightest bit gay. Trixie scratched at her chest as she stared at Katya’s rug, contemplating. She wasn’t sure about this whole situation now. The adrenaline from her performance had worn off, and the deep, pit of anxiety curled itself into her stomach. She could still leave Boston, she supposed. Home would be hell in a half, but it was still home. 

“Sounds tempting,” Trixie dug the toe of her cowgirl boot into the carpet, listening to the rustle against the leather. “I wish I still had my cocktail, you’re stressing me out,” 

Katya laughed. “All the makings of an alcoholic, and only nineteen. I don’t keep any alcohol down here, so I just saved your ass,” 

“Why?” 

Katya hesitated. 

“Hey, it’s your turn to open up, Yeka—Ye— Katya,” Trixie rolled her eyes. 

Katya laughed. “I’ll speak, if only for that pitiful attempt at my name,” she turned to face Trixie. “I’m a recovering drug addict. I’ve been clean, for a long time actually. But it’s better to keep the tempting stuff away,” 

“You work in a bar,” Trixie scrunched her face in horror. “Oh my God, I just said the least sensitive thing you prob—” 

Katya was laughing, rather hard at that. “Oh, God, its fine.” She waved her hand. “Really, Trixie, it’s fine. Actually, I owe a lot of my sobriety to Jacques,” Katya tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Ru found me, practically at the bottom of the barrel, and gave me a bar-tending job here.” Katya shrugged. “He even gave me this place to stay, but, I had to get sober. So,” she gestured grandly. “The simple explanation is, I just _did,”_

“I’m glad you’re sober,” 

“Yeah, me too.” Katya pursed her mouth, clearly thinking to herself. “I’m glad you came to Boston,” 

“I’m glad I came to Boston too,” 

✘✘✘ 

Despite being acquainted with the rowdiest group of people she had ever met, Trixie felt at peace. Her quiet conversation with Katya had reminded her that, regardless of their impeccable performance abilities, they were all still people. With pasts, with problems, not unlike Trixie herself. Katya wouldn’t disclose who, but she had told Trixie several people in their company came from families that were less than accepting. Even after their discussion of drugs and Katya’s younger years, she kept assuring Trixie that this was the safest place for her to be. That if she ever had to fall, they would all be there to catch her. Eventually, they made their way back upstairs. Katya said she was worried Violet might be a little jealous (jokingly, of course), and Trixie wanted to hang with the others, even just for a while. They slipped back into the house, Trixie’s eye catching Aja and Chi Chi talking rather loudly on the edge of the stage. 

“Well, if it isn’t Lil’Miss Dolly,” Chi Chi drawled as she approached. Aja was saddled in his lap. 

“Sis! You were so damn good tonight!” He chimed. 

“Me? I’ve never met anyone who could _move_ like you!” 

“Thanks, but I’m no Katya,” 

“No, you’re just younger and faster,” Katya gave Trixie a playful shove before sauntering her way back over to Violet. Trixie watched with a questioning eye. They may not be together, but she certainly didn’t think they were over. 

Aja wailed playfully, giving Trixie’s hand a hard squeeze. “Oh sis! Oh, _sis_!” Aja flopped himself back in Chi Chi’s lap, “I am deceased! Well, actually, Katya is,” 

“From old age?” 

Aja clapped a hand on Trixie’s shoulder, shaking her lightly. “Yes, bitch, we are going to be friends!” Trixie laughed, placing a hand on Aja’s and squeezing it.  <

“Hey, Trix, we still up for our makeup date this weekend?” Kim, who was sitting at a nearby table, spoke up. 

Trixie turned to face her. “Definitely.” 

“Ooh, a makeup date?” Chi Chi nudged Trixie’s shoulder. 

“Trixie uses drugstore makeup,” Kim clarified. “And we’re going to fix that,” 

“Drugstore makeup??” Chi Chi nearly looked offended. 

“I grew up in the middle of nowhere! I got what I got from the Walmart that was an hour away!” 

“Not all drugstore stuff is bad,” Aja assured. 

“No, but the shit she uses is,” Kim teased. “I think her foundation is a shade too dark, her eyeshadow has no pigment, her—” 

“Alright, bitch. We get it!” 

“Look,” Kim said with a laugh. “You have decent application skills, but having a bad product makes the difference. You’ll see.” 

“Be prepared to drop some big bucks, though. Our fantastic makeup does not come cheap.” Aja tossed his hair before remembering he was wigless. The sight made Trixie laugh. 

“Y’all could come?” Trixie offered, casting a glance to Kim. Kim shrugged, moving from her table to join the group at the stage. 

“Can we go clothes shopping?” Chi Chi requested. “Aja keeps ripping my nice pants whenever—” 

“Yes. Yes. And _please_ don’t fucking finish that sentence,” Kim waved her hands dismissively. 

“I can’t help that I’m a messy top,” Aja smacked his lips, attempting to look sexy. 

“Actually,” Trixie cut in, hoping to move past Aja and Chi Chi’s sex life. “I could go for some new clothes.” 

Aja slammed his hand on the stage. “We can fucking dress her like barbie! I’m so in! We are so in!” 

Kim grinned. “Saturday morning? Trixie, I can pick you up.” 

“Saturday morning sounds perfect.” 


	5. A Photogenic Barbie Doll & Her Bra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just wanted to share what I bought!” Aja whined. “Why can’t Katya have a crush on _me_?”  
>  Chi Chi screeched. “Babe! What the fuck!” 
> 
> Katya violently tossed a throw pillow at Aja, and Trixie couldn’t really breathe. She couldn’t calculate a response, so instead she laughed. Forcefully. But, a laugh, nonetheless. 
> 
> “You’re so whiney, Aja,” Trixie teased, grabbing the bag full of her new shoes. Chi Chi shared a certain look with Aja, and the room fell into uncomfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henlo, I am woman, 
> 
> I am uploading a day early because I finally got around to writing ahead, and I'm excite!!!! The feedback is making my heart soar, I love all of you so much and you should totally keep it coming <3  
> I love this chapter, but I really think I'm updating early because next chapter has me feeling all sorts of ways, mama. 
> 
> As always make it rain in the kudos (please), and you can still visit me [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, I'm thinking of starting another fic soon! Do you think I'm good enough to continue with this whole fanfic thing? I'm not fishing for compliments, really, it's more of a... 'if I posted more writing, would y'all read it'? I have a plethora of Trixya ideas, believe me. And I really like writing, despite this being my first anything in like... three years! I love you guys, thank you so much for everything!

The Boston air was becoming more and more crisp as the days passed. Trixie found that Septembers in the city were just as cold, if not colder, then in the woods of Wisconsin. She thanked God for Kim’s offer to take her shopping. Within the few things she packed when she left Wisconsin, a warm coat or even a sweatshirt was not on her list. She remembered her autoharp, but not a coat. Classic Trixie.  
She’d had very little correspondence with her family since the night she accepted the job from Ru, and it had been almost a week. She had gotten her brother on the phone long enough to convince him to mail out some of her old possessions. She even offered him fare for it, but Dan, being the good Samaritan, he is, declined. She knew he felt bad for her. She knew David and her mother were far harder on Trixie and her little sister than they ever were on him. She used that fact in her favor more than once. He asked her how she liked the city, her job. She raved, probably bragged a little more than she actually had the right to, but she had given herself something to prove. Dan was as disinterested as ever, more involved with his own stories that always bored his younger sister to death. Their talk was brief, and when she hung up, she knew her mom and step-father were going to grill him for some reason to disapprove, just a little more. A small part of her hoped her mom _would_ call. Beg Trixie to come back because she needed her, because she needed her to help take Sam to volleyball practice and band. She even hoped for Pearl to tell her the church was struggling, but her disappearance seemed little more than an inconvenience to her small town. Other than the juicy gossip, Trixie was another passing face. That hurt a little more than she cared to admit.  
Her first week of rehearsals went well. Bianca had chewed her out for not having any form of dance shoe, which she promised to fix this weekend with Kim. Kim Chi, who was steadfastly becoming one of Trixie’s closest friends. On top of offering to take Trixie out, she let her borrow a plethora of clothes for rehearsal. Trixie didn’t know how to show how grateful she was. Everyone was nice. Everyone was patient with her lack of experience, especially Katya, who had taken her aside to rehearse several different pieces of music, choreography, and lines.  
And there was Ron, the quirky sound guy who worked with the cast constantly. He was straight, much to Alaska’s dismay, and it seemed every time Trixie turned around, he was there. Offering to help her with a mic, or the run of a song. With wavy blonde hair, and freckles, Trixie thought she would’ve taken to him much easier. She certainly liked him. He was kind, funny, helpful. The only downside was… Katya didn’t really seem to appreciate his company. He was always interrupting their rehearsal sessions, and when he came around, Katya always disappeared for a smoke break. Something that irritated Trixie on an entirely other note. She knew Katya couldn’t help it, but whenever they were working, she seemed to always disappear. It really threw their schedule off-kilter.  
Other than that, Trixie found she enjoyed her new schedule immensely. They rehearsed every day except for Tuesday and Saturday, morning until showtime. Trixie usually arrived around nine and relaxed in the dressing room until nine-thirty, when rehearsal started. They kept rehearsal going until five, and then they broke for a dinner break and to prepare for the show. Sure, she hadn’t participated in another performance just yet, but she still liked watching and practicing. Ru promised her rehearsed debut would be on Wednesday, and Trixie was elated. They had their variety shows Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Monday’s and Thursday’s each had a different theme that they had to cater to, and Tuesdays the bar operated like a normal club. Music, dancing, and drinks. Sunday’s were the _real_ days off. The club didn’t even open. Saturday’s were party days (the mornings, anyway). Hence why Kim had invited her out.  
Trixie was beyond excited to go out with Kim, Aja, and Chi Chi. New clothes, new makeup, and with her rent being fairly reasonable, Trixie was excited for the haul that was to inevitably come. 

Saturday rolled around after a blur of rehearsal, and Trixie was ready for her day out. It took her all of ten minutes to contemplate the idea of wearing makeup. A bad idea, considering Kim promised to test anything Trixie bought on her skin. Since the makeup issue was off the table, Trixie found herself with nothing to do after her shower. Usually, she used the time it took for her hair to dry to apply makeup, but now… nothing. She laughed at herself in the mirror before going about dressing. The only clean garment she had left was a long, lightly-colored dress that had a full buttoned collar. She usually reserved this dress for church, but it would have to do for a day at the mall. After slipping the long garment over her head, Trixie began the process of drying her long, blonde locks. She always loved her hair. She loved the way it fell over her shoulders and curled in all the right places, the way the wind could catch it just right and make her feel like a goddess. It was her best asset, she always thought. After slipping on her boots, Trixie grabbed her favorite pink purse and made her way downstairs. She promised Kim she’d wait outside, and, in the cold of September, Trixie rocked on her heels as she watched for Kim’s mazda three. 

“Oooh, serving _looks_ , barbie!” Aja chimed as Trixie climbed in the car. “Look at you!” 

“Slum barbie, maybe,” Chi Chi drawled. “Girl, you live in one of the worst spots in Boston!”

“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that?” Trixie buckled herself into the passenger seat. “I just got here, and I have about three things to wear,”

“I swear to God, I’m going to burn those boots before you can get anything else,” Kim quipped. “Seriously, you’re never wearing them again after today,”

✘✘✘

Kim had drove to an outlet mall just outside of Boston. Trixie had never seen a bigger strip of stores, even weekend trips in Milwaukee weren’t this extravagant. She huffed out a sigh as she climbed out of the car. 

“Whats’a’matter?” Chi Chi had asked, tossing a comforting arm around Trixie’s waist, while Aja fought for his free one. 

“Here goes my paycheck,” Trixie laughed, slinging her purse over her shoulder. Chi Chi laughed softly. 

“It’s a good cause, really,” Kim took Trixie’s hand and gave it a nice squeeze. “I promise,”

“Don’t forget, you need a new thong, babe,” Chi Chi added. 

“Oh, yeah, I forgot you—” Aja began.

“Shut up!” Kim jabbed. “Jesus, don’t finish that!” Aja and Chi Chi bust into fits of giggles. 

“Sorry, sorry!” 

“No, you’re not,” Trixie chided. 

The group strutted into the front doors, arms empty, pockets full… something that was certainly about to change. Aja immediately took a beeline for the large Victoria’s Secret, Chi Chi stumbling behind him. Kim and Trixie trailed in after, laughing a little to themselves. 

“Have you ever been here?” Kim posed, moseying her way to the bralettes. Trixie followed behind. 

“Yeah, but I couldn’t afford it in Wisconsin. And my mom insisted Walmart bras are good enough,”

“Gross, we need to get you measured.” Kim assured. “Gotta make ya tits pop on stage!” 

“Hey, listen, Kim?” Trixie touched her friend’s shoulder. Kim turned, her face soft, smiling. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me this week,” Kim cocked her head as Trixie continued. “Seriously, the clothes, today, just… I don’t think I could’ve gotten through this week without you.” 

Kim brought a hand to her chest and huffed out a smile. “I’m really glad you came, Trixie. I’m not super close with the rest of the cast, but… we kinda clicked?” she smiled. “And I remember being new to the group, it kinda sucks,”

Trixie laughed. “Yeah, a little,” 

“But, Katya has taken to you pretty quick. Violet and Alaska don’t mind you, and you’re one of the most talented girls in our cast,” Kim smiled. “C’mon, lets get your tits measured before Aja and Chi Chi fuck in the dressing room,” 

✘✘✘

Four hours in, and Trixie’s arms were practically wilting with bags. She was spending way too much money on dance clothes, everyday clothes, and shoes. She hadn’t even gotten to the makeup yet, and that was the whole point of their trip. She’d never had a paycheck this steep, including performance tips, and Trixie was going a little overboard. Ru had paid her ahead of time. At least he didn’t think she was going anywhere, anytime soon. She was beyond pleased with the haul thus far. She had several new skirts, leggings that her mother would never let see the light of day, sweaters for the winter, a long, long pink coat, several new pairs of bras and panties, and the motherload of shoes. She bought character heels, jazz shoes, pumps, boots (much to Kim’s dismay), and a brand-new pair of sneakers.  
She wasn’t the only one. Chi Chi had scored three new pairs of pants and a skirt that made his ass look amazing. Kim had a few new dresses, and Aja had hauled in a truck full of accessories. They were their twentieth clothing store, and Trixie had to set down her coffee just to carry her choices into the dressing room. 

“Trixie, you need to try on these heels,” Kim chimed, tossing pair of red, chunky shoes under the door of Trixie’s stall. 

“Ugh, can I afford it?” Trixie pulled an overpriced tee shirt over her chest before realizing it was a crop-top and rolling her eyes. “Do they sell full shirts here?” 

“At Forever 21? No.” Kim grinned, walking in Trixie’s room and pulling her skirt up. “Show a little leg! And put on the hooker heels!”

“Ugh, my mom would skin me,” Trixie laughed, plopping down on the bench to put on the requested shoes.

“Mommy isn’t here! It’s all Trixie, all the time!” Aja clapped. “Get the skirt, ditch the shirt and the heels,” 

“The heels look good!” Chi Chi whined. 

Trixie rolled her eyes and gazed at herself in the mirror. The skirt, while tight, made her ass look great. The heels accentuated her calves, and she really didn’t mind the ensemble.

Kim swirled the straw of her smoothie, “That could be a date-night look,” she mused. “Speaking of,” Kim gave a knowing look to Aja and Chi Chi, “met anyone you like yet?” 

“Other than Ron hardcore flirting with her?” Aja chimed. “You know he’s like thirty? Is that pedophilia?” 

“I’m nineteen, Aja,” Trixie laughed. 

“A young nineteen! Who also vaguely resembles a child’s plaything,” 

“Me? A plaything? Honey! Oh, honey, he wants me to play with _his_ thing, honey, aha!” Trixie gushed. Aja let out a wild scream while Chi Chi collapsed into fits of laughter.

“Oh my God,” Kim rolled her eyes, a reluctant grin on her face. “Remind me to tell that line to Katya,” 

“I’m literally so fucking funny,” Trixie teased, still chuckling. 

Once Aja recovered, he sat up again. “So, ask him out! Do you like Ron?”

“I’ve only known him a week,” Trixie drawled, disappearing behind the dressing room doors. “He seems nice,”

“What about someone in the cast?” Chi Chi mused. “Anyone you like?” 

“Oh, yeah!” Aja exclaimed. “Saw you and Katya getting kinda—Hey!” Kim’s arm had lodged itself into Aja’s side, and Chi Chi couldn’t help but laugh. Trixie rolled her eyes and swung the door to her dressing room open, already back in her dress. 

“Katya is just a friend, and she knows that. And I know that. And I’m straight,” Trixie gathered her bags from where her friends sat. “Plus I think whatever happened with Violet is…” Trixie gestured vaguely. “Still happening,” 

Chi Chi creased his brows. “Did Kat tell you that?” 

“No, but they’re… I don’t know… they’re weird around each other,” 

“Well, I’d be weird around my ex too,” Chi Chi leaned over and took a sip of Kim’s smoothie. 

“Has she told you what happened?” Kim asked, shoving Chi Chi’s face away. 

“Just that they broke up and relationships aren’t really ‘her thing’,” Trixie shrugged. 

“That’s… all she told you?” 

“Is there more?” Aja and Chi Chi shared a knowing look.

“It’s not our place to say,” Aja mumbled softly. 

Trixie lolled her head and groaned. “I’ll ask Katya later, c’mon, I’m getting the shoes and the skirt,” Trixie gestured towards the registers. 

They walked along more of the outlets, Trixie wishing she could drop her bags in the car before continuing. She needed to shed her disgusting load, she needed to stop spending far too much money. And she held onto that thought, even as she bought her second coffee of the day.  
She couldn’t escape the idea that Katya had completely danced around her breakup with Violet. Not that Katya didn’t have every right to, but they had already shared so many personal things. It seemed so simple when it was brought up. And now, she was learning there was more. It seemed almost fitting. Katya was far more than what meets the eye.  
After Forever 21, Kim had maneuvered the group to a Sephora. Trixie nearly fainted at some of the prices, but Kim assured her it was all worth it. 

“I wanna match your foundation,” Kim had said, tugging Trixie’s aching arm. “You need to at least get some foundation, a bit of contour, and some eyeliner. The basics,” 

“Uh, what about primer? Setting powder?” Chi Chi had added, swatching some eyeshadow on his wrist. 

“Kim, I really don’t think I should spend this much on makeup—” Trixie began. 

“Think of it as an investment. A necessity for performing!” Kim squeezed Trixie’s arm. “It’s worth it! I promise! And, Ru already gave you a nice set of brushes!”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess,” Trixie smiled half-heartedly. 

“We are so lucky Ru replaces our makeup brushes for us,” Aja sighed dreamily. “Nice-ass brushes too!” 

Chi Chi wrapped his arms around Aja from behind, smiling softly. “I’m lucky to have you,” he giggled. 

Trixie smiled at the display. “Y’all are gross and cute,” 

“Cute, first. Gross, second!” Aja replied, pressing his face back into Chi Chi. “Don’t you wish you had this?”

“Trixie! C’mere! I think this shade will work!” Kim called from across the store. Trixie scurried over to where she sat with a plethora of foundation bottles. “Here’s a couple testers. Is your skin really sensitive?” 

“Yeah, kinda,” 

“God knows how you got by on L’Oreal foundation,” Kim rolled her eyes. “Oily? Dry? Work with me, mama,” 

“Oily,” Trixie answered with a laugh. 

“Okay, I think you should try this,” Kim handed Trixie a round bottle with foundation near her skin tone. 

“How much is it?” 

“Like $35, why?” 

“Jesus Christ! For a bottle _this_ small? Kim, I--” 

“Just trust me!” Kim swiped the bottle from Trixie’s fingers and moved on from the aisle. “Chi Chi, what lipliner should she get?” 

Chi Chi moseyed over to Kim, looking over the plethora of lip-pencils. “Well, she needs nude, and probably something pink,” 

“MAC?” 

“How do you even _know_ all this?” Trixie asked incredulously. 

“I used to work at a makeup counter!” Kim responded cheerily. “I had the best sales in my store,” 

“My mom is a makeup artist,” Chi Chi drawled, grabbing two lip pencils and shoving them in Kim’s hands. 

“Primer, contour, and setting powder.” Kim said to herself. “Oh, and blush! Then we have to leave if we want to make call time,” 

Aja whined. “What about dinner?” 

“You can eat in my car if you’re careful, but we have to leave soon,” 

“I’m not going to be able to afford dinner,” Trixie snorted. 

“Trixie, I know your paycheck, you’re fine,” Kim reproved, taking her new friend’s arm. “Come on, lets hurry up,” 

✘✘✘

Trixie wanted to regret her haul. She wanted to regret the high-end makeup and nice, new clothes. She wanted to tell herself that this was money she needed to save, but damn. With how good she looked, how good she _felt_ , Trixie practically grinned the whole ride home. Even as she stuffed her face with a veggie burger, Kim fully going twenty-miles over the speed-limit, she was beaming. It wasn’t long before they pulled up to the club, Kim dropping Chi Chi, Trixie, and Aja off at the front door. 

“Tell Bianca I’m just parking!” Kim called. “Go, go, go! Before you’re late too!” Trixie turned on her boot and tugged the front door open, arms full of their bags. Aja was hot on her trail, and Chi Chi was moseying behind them. 

“You’re late!” Bianca chided from behind the bar. 

“No! It’s 5:00!” Chi Chi argued. “On the nose. Oh, and Kim’s parking the car. She’ll be right in,” 

“Did you fuckers buy the whole damn mall? Trixie, you’re drooping about a foot with all those bags!” Bianca came out from behind the bar and peeked in one of them. “How are you affording rent?” she accused. 

“I live in a hotel—”

“On the Southside!” Chi Chi added.

“Jesus Christmas. Get the fuck backstage, you three,” Bianca gestured lazily to the stage, and the trio skipped gleefully, bags in tow. 

Trixie was the first to enter the dressing room, and immediately she collapsed on the couch, dropping her shopping bags at her feet. Katya was sitting on her vanity, clad in her bra and panties, a sight Trixie was far beyond accustomed to. 

“Hey, princess,” Katya grinned. “Shopping ‘til you’re dropping, huh?”

Trixie flicked her wrist at Katya, a soft smile on her face. “I bought so much shit,” she groaned. “Makeup, shoes, skirts, shirts, pants, literally everything,” 

“Did you finally get some dance shoes?” she asked, crossing the room to join Trixie on the couch. 

“Yeah!” Trixie sat up and began to rummage through her bags. “They’re here somewh—” 

“ _Hi, Katya! We had fun too, thanks for noticing!_ ” Aja interrupted, Chi Chi standing behind him and nodding fiercely. They had walked in directly behind Trixie and yet, received no greeting from their long-time friend. He looked rather miffed, at least playfully so, and the sight made Trixie giggle. 

“Hi, Aja. Hi, Chi Chi. I don’t care what you bought,” Katya confessed. She turned back to Trixie with a smirk, her back to the two men. “Lemme see those dancing shoes!”

“Well, I have character shoes, jazz shoes, and tap shoes!” 

Aja began to talk, rather loudly over Trixie. “So, I got this amazing necklace from…” 

Trixie made to stop talking, allowing Aja to continue, but Katya egged her forward. Her eyes were gleaming mischievously, and Trixie couldn’t say no. 

“I used to go to weekly dance classes, and I took a lot of tap recently…” 

“…It’s gonna look great with that one body suit, you know the mesh one…” Aja continued. 

“…my friend Pearl and I used to…” As they spoke, Trixie and Aja increased in volume. It was clear the competition was stiff, and Katya was already flailing with laughter, Chi Chi rolling his eyes from where he sat on the vanity. 

“Can you two shut the fuck up?” Chi Chi lamented. He collapsed against the mirror, nearly knocking it off it’s stand which only caused Katya to laugh harder. Trixie rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help grinning, couldn’t help but watch Katya in her enjoyment. 

“I just wanted to share what I bought!” Aja whined. “Why can’t Katya have a crush on _me_?”  
Chi Chi screeched. “Babe! What the fuck!” 

Katya violently tossed a throw pillow at Aja, and Trixie couldn’t really breathe. She couldn’t calculate a response, so instead she laughed. Forcefully. But, a laugh, nonetheless. 

“You’re so whiney, Aja,” Trixie teased, grabbing the bag full of her new shoes. Chi Chi shared a certain look with Aja, and the room fell into uncomfortable silence. “Anyway,” she spoke after a moment. “My tap shoes!” Trixie pulled a pair of plain, white tap shoes and handed them to Katya. “I figured white would go a lot better with… my aesthetic? You know, I wear a shit ton of bright colors, and I could always get a black pair if I needed them—” 

“That’s really great, Trixie,” Katya flashed those perfect teeth again, and Trixie smiled right back. “Anything else I might be interested in?” 

“She got great bras,” Kim said, entering from the backdoor of the dressing room. 

“How’d you get in that way? Bianca said it’s always locked,” Trixie questioned. 

“There’s a key hidden back there, I’ll show you sometime. It’s only for emergencies though,” Kim walked to her mirror and began touching up her day makeup.

“Then why’d you use it?” Trixie laughed. 

“I was late and I saw Bianca in the house. My emergency is that I didn’t want her to tear me a new ass hole” Kim rolled her eyes. “But new bras, Trixie, show her the one you’re wearing!” 

“Oh, yeah! I didn’t get to see it!” Chi Chi inserted, fighting off an apologetic Aja. 

“Oh, ehm—” Trixie began to undo the buttons on her dress, and she felt Katya shift her legs on the couch. “Yeah, it’s really nice! All pink and lacy! Very barbie!” 

Trixie peeled her dress open, just enough for her friends to see her chest. The cold air hit her breasts, and she felt the need to shiver. She wasn’t self-conscious, not in the least. She’d worked here for a week and she’d already seen Katya’s boobs, Alaska’s dick, Aja’s dick, and Violet’s ass. There was no boundaries and no judgement, but… the way Katya was looking at Trixie. Her expression was cool, interested, but her eyes… Trixie couldn’t quite place the emotion. 

“That is the greatest titty holder I’ve ever seen,” Aja complimented. 

“Certainly, keeps the girls elevated!” Katya laughed. “I need a cigarette,” 

While Trixie was happy with the bra in itself, she was a little disappointed Katya didn’t have more of a reaction. She thought the garment was great! She didn’t know why Katya’s seemingly neutral response vexed her, but she didn’t dare analyze it.  
The group was interrupted by Alaska and Violet, strolling in through the forbidden door with McDonald’s bags. 

“Did we almost walk in on an orgy?” Alaska posed, a fry hanging out of the corner of his mouth. 

“No, I think Trixie came out and is offering herself to Katya in some kind of lesbian sacrifice,” Violet retorted with a sneer. Trixie immediately covered herself, rolling her eyes, rather miffed by Violet’s insensitivity. 

“Vi, I need to bum one,” Katya blurted. 

“You know where they are,” she opened her arms. Katya rolled her eyes and stood from the couch, reaching her hand in Violet’s shirt to retrieve the pack and a lighter from her bra. 

“Why can’t you hand them to me?” Katya complained, tapping the pack before sliding one out. 

“It’s more fun this way,” Violet grabbed the lighter from Katya’s hand and lit the stick hanging out of her mouth. “Besides, you’re the whole reason I smoke these cancer sticks,” There was something challenging about Violet’s tone that caused Trixie to turn and look into her lap. She felt like she was invading on something far too personal. 

“What’d you get today?” Alaska inquired, plopping himself in Katya’s seat. “You look like you got a great-ass haul,” Trixie huffed. She hadn’t spent much time with Alaska thus far. She knew he was close with Violet, and it seemed far too difficult to invade on that duo, even just to get to know them. 

“Lots of new clothes, stuff for rehearsal, bras. Basic stuff. Most of my shit is still in Wisconsin and I don’t think I’ll be getting it any time soon,” 

“You hit a lot of great stores,” Alaska peeked in the bags. “Is that… bra… new?” Alaska flicked the unbuttoned flap of her dress. She scrambled to cover up. 

“Ah, yeah!” she said sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry, I forgot it was open.” 

Alaska shrugged. “Girl, you really think I give two fucks?” 

Violet suddenly turned from Katya and faced Trixie. “Did you get it for Ronnie?” she gestured to Trixie’s bra. “It’s nice—"

“Ugh,” Alaska dragged himself from the spot on the couch, and Katya pushed past Violet to reclaim it. “Don’t mention that hetero!” 

“I don’t know Ron, I’m not just going to sleep with him,” 

“There’s nothing wrong with sleeping with strangers,” Katya said tersely, blowing smoke above her head. 

“No, I know,” Trixie shrugged. “It’s just not my thing, I guess,”

“Are you a virgin, Trixie? A late bloomer?” Alaska teased.

Kim scowled. “Can we lay off Trixie? I’ve heard her talk all day, I don’t wanna hear more,” Trixie gave Kim an offended look which caused the group to fall into vicious laughter. Personally, however, Trixie was grateful for the sudden insult. It distracted from the question at hand, one Trixie was less than enthusiastic to answer. 

“Trixie,” Kim began. “Get your makeup, girl. Lemme show you how the good shit works,”

✘✘✘

Another show came and went, and Trixie was grateful for the end of the night. She was excited to start her performance track on Wednesday. She had struggled briefly in rehearsal, and worried her new friends’ patience were wearing thin, but if she could kill her performance… she could solidify her position. If she could replicate the feeling and reaction she had her first night, Trixie would be fulfilled.  
She was standing back in the dressing room, carding her fingers through the tangles that had formed in her hair. She tucked herself away, off to the side as to not disturb her cast as they undressed and removed their makeup. Katya was at her side, a cigarette between her lips as she removed her jewelry. Her bodysuit was half-off, the sleeves dangling as she ‘de-dragged’ as Ru always put it. Trixie watched her patiently, her fingers caught on a particularly rough snag.  
Katya was gorgeous. Trixie was never particularly uncomfortable with herself, she knew she was fairly blessed in terms of body and looks. Even as she was avoided by the boys at school, there was always side-eyes. Strange comments from boys she didn’t know. She never felt the desire to _change_ her physique, no, but Katya tended to make her question the idea of beauty. Katya wore the most atrocious things. Baby doll parts as jewelry, a cigarette necklace, an eyeball headpiece, and don’t even get her started with some of her patterns. Tonight, Katya wore a leotard with the word ‘sweaty’ etched onto it. Who does that? Who wears that? And who has the nerve to pull it off?  
Katya. Fucking Katya. Not only could she pull off the shittiest clothes Trixie had ever seen, but she was _radiant_ in them. Hell, she was radiant just in her underclothes, but Trixie appreciated her style more. She appreciated Katya more.  
There was a soft knock at the door, and Ron’s voice rang through the barrier. 

“Everyone decent?” He asked, already turning the knob.

“There’s not a shred of decency in this damn room,” Ginger drawled. 

“Hey, Trixie…” Ron spoke, shy upon entry. 

Trixie turned slowly, lingering on Katya’s nightly routine for just a second longer. “Hm? Oh, hey, Ron,”

 

“Nice to see you too, Ron,” Alaska scowled. “You could say hello to us! We’ve only known you forever!” 

“Nice to see all of you,” Ron inserted. “Trixie, I got the photos I took of you printed. You can pick one for the wall,” He handed Trixie a well-loved envelope full of photos. “You look… stunning. You should be a model,” 

“Oh! Thank you so much!” Trixie blushed a little, tucking the tangle she was working on behind her ear. “This was really sweet of you,” 

“Oh, oh, no problem!” Ron huffed. “It was my pleasure,” 

“I bet it was,” Aja muttered, making jacking motion with his hand. Violet and Chi Chi bust into laughter. 

Trixie cleared her throat uncomfortably. “I’m just gonna—” Trixie slid the pictures out of the envelope. Katya appeared over her shoulder, curiously surveying the photos.  
Trixie wasn’t going to lie. Trixie wasn’t going to dance around it. She looked… amazing. She was dazzling under the lights with the beat-up guitar and that new, pink jumpsuit. Her smile was wide, and her hair was caught, clearly in mid-toss as she strummed along. And they all were like that. A frozen moment of perfection. That’s all Trixie Mattel saw. 

“Oh my God,” Trixie gushed. “These… these are fantastic!” 

“You’re the most photo-fucking-genic person I’ve ever seen,” Katya wailed. “Oh my God!” Katya swiped a few of the photos from Trixie’s fingers, leaving her with the few she had yet to see. 

Kim leaned over, her face bare of makeup as she assessed the pictures. “Jesus, there’s not a bad shot of you!” she lamented. “This isn’t fair, Mattel! You don’t get to be talented _and_ pretty!” Trixie bit her lip, while she was proud, she wasn’t used to such praise. Yeah, she looked fucking killer. The jumpsuit had made what little you could see of her hips pop, and the amount of fun she was having seemed insurmountable. By now, she had peaked the interest of the rest of her cast. 

“Daaaamn,” Violet cooed. “Guess I’m _not_ the only regulation hottie,”

That was it. Okay, that was probably the moment she could’ve died. Violet Chachki, the second prettiest woman Trixie had ever met, just compared her pictures to her. Positively. Trixie felt in a daze with all the praise, and she wanted to dwell in it forever. 

“Hey, Trixie?” Ron’s voice had interrupted her stupor and she was far too disappointed. She turned to face him, not really paying attention. “I was thinking, you’re new to Boston, and you probably need someone to show you around,” he cleared his throat. “Uh, would you maybe let me—” 

Trixie’s phone, hidden in her purse, began to ring. Even over the cacophony of her friends, Trixie could hear the tell-tale country jingle. Relief settled in her chest. 

“Oh, shit, one second!” Trixie grabbed her purse from behind the couch and rummaged through the bag. 

“She’s pretty, but her ringtone screams ‘hick’!” Ginger hollered. 

“You would fucking _know _!” Katya quipped.__

__Trixie plopped on the couch and stared at her phone, she flipped it open and answered the call. “Hello?” The faint sound of chatter could be heard over the line, as if she had been butt-dialed. She checked the caller ID._ _

__“Hey, Kat?” Trixie said, staring at her screen._ _

__“Hm?”_ _

__“Why’re you calling me?”_ _

__“Am I? I hope I didn’t interrupt anything too important,” Katya cast her eyes on Ron before turning back to Trixie. “My bad,” She said with a grin_ _


	6. Just Enough Homo to Still Be A Hetero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not a fan of the hetero,” Katya joked, nudging Trixie in the ribs. 
> 
> “Oh, I’m too hetero for you?” Trixie laughed, biting down on her lip. 
> 
> Katya bit her tongue before speaking. “Nope,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, laddies. I'm updating AGAIN this week because I am a total loser and my favorite Trixya fic updated today and it was aMAZING!!! Also, this was my favorite chapter to write so far and I love sharing with you!
> 
> As always, feel free to hit me up on Tumblr [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ALSO I HAVE 100 KUDOS AND IT MADE ME SO HAPPY! Thank you all for your love and support. It means so much to me <3

A month flew past Trixie like it was nothing. A month at Jacques, a month in her hotel-home, and a month with very little family correspondence. She liked her existence as best she could. Pearl had stopped texting her (for the most part, anyway), but she had Katya and Kim.  
Trixie found didn’t even _miss_ Wisconsin that much. She missed the good memories, the experiences, but, she had so little there. She had nothing tying her to her one-horse-town. Why _would_ she stay?  
Shows and rehearsals seemed to fly now that Trixie had settled into the routine. She had rehearsals, a show, and then she spent time with her friends. She was content with her lot in life, for now.  
Even though the cast had Saturday morning’s off, they were just a few weeks shy of Halloween, which meant the house needed bits of decoration. Scattered amongst the tables sat the cast, Bianca, Ru, and his towering husband, Georges. Trixie was untangling heaps of purple and orange lights that were going to hang along the stage, Katya hindering more than helping. Violet was hanging bloody decals in the front windows and on the doors with Alaska, and Aja had a box full of rubber bats and ghosts he was hanging with Chi Chi. 

“Do we always go all out for Halloween?” Trixie queried. 

“Always. We have a costume contest, a raffle, and then some kind of Halloween-themed show. Last year we did this big Tim Burton thing. I was like, a slutty Sally from _Nightmare Before Christmas_ , slutty-but-totally-fucking-strong-and-independent-woman-who-don’t-need-to-fall-apart-for-no-skeleton! Yes, Barbara, please! Huge hit.” Katya snorted. “Usually we’ve started rehearsing the show by now, but I don’t think Ru or Bianca have a clue what we’re doing yet,” She tossed a bit of unraveled cord to Trixie and gestured for her to get a rather nasty knot out. 

“We have _ideas_!” Ru defended from his table. 

“Not good ones,” Bianca rolled her eyes. “We’re open to ideas at this point ladies, I don’t know what else to do,” 

Aja plopped himself onto a table to hang a rubber bat from the overhang above the bar. “What about re-creating Hocus Pocus?” Aja spun around on the table and hunched his shoulders. “ _Thank you, Max!_ he belted. “ _For that maaaaaarvelous introduction_ ” Aja took a bow and hopped off the table before shimmying away, singing. 

“Our demographic is too old for that,” Ginger rolled his eyes. “Even though I’d make a great fucking Bette Midler,” 

“Ginger’s right, about the demographic thing, anyway” Ru huffed. “What about something with serial killers?” He leaned his head on his hand and thought to himself. “Or we could all go as different slasher characters and victims?” 

Katya clapped her hands. “ _Yes!_ Yes! I have dibs on Freddy Krueger, Trixie can be Nancy! I am _for_ it!” 

“It’d get kinda repetitive, don’t you think?” Violet posed. “Just a bunch of killers and victims? What would we do? Reenact their deaths on stage all night? I don’t think so, mama,” She walked over to Ru’s table, looking over the suggestions he scribbled down. “I like that Day of the Dead idea? The Mexican celebration?” 

“No, no, no!” Katya shook her head and joined the ever-growing group at Ru’s table. “I’m not going to, in good conscience, appropriate anyone’s culture,” Trixie followed, but only to reach the outlet that was placed behind them. She began testing the string of lights, one by one, still listening to the chatter. 

“That’s why I crossed it out,” Ru breathed. “We might have to repeat something from our early years,” 

Bianca grunted and slammed her hand down on the table. “Our early shows were never that good! We’d have to do so much tweaking and we only have a few weeks—" 

Trixie stood, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke. “What about…” the group turned to face her. “The Rocky Horror Picture Show? That’s an instant classic. Have you done it before?” she questioned. “There was a movie theater in my town that did those interactive Rocky showings every October.” There was silence as the group seemed to mull over the implications of her suggestions. There must’ve been some kind of telepathic consensus because Katya perked up. 

“I wanna be Frank’n’Furter, mom. I wanna sing _Sweet Transvestite_!” Katya claimed. “Please, please, please!” 

“If we do this—” Bianca began. 

“And we are,” Ru finished. “Trixie, that is a fantastic idea!” he squeezed Trixie’s arm before scribbling something down in his paperwork, 

“Wait! We’re really doing this?” Aja grinned. “I wanna be Rocky! Check out these guns!” he flexed his arm, right in Katya’s face, who decided that it would be completely appropriate to lick the flesh. “Katya!!” He yelped, jerking away from the older blonde. 

“I was checking them out!” Katya admitted. “Keep your shit out of my face,” Trixie snorted, her hand coming to cover her mouth when Aja glared at her.

Ru gestured his hand, a command for silence and the cast returned their focus to their boss. “While I appreciate the enthusiasm, girls, I think I’ll have to hold auditions,” He paused. “I should call Michelle!” 

“No.” Violet shook her head. “No, no, no, no,” 

“Violet, I know you’ve had your differences with her in the past, however—” 

“No! She always comes for me!” Violet whined. 

“You were giving her shit last time, you cunt!” Katya argued. “Of course, she was an ass!” 

Trixie leaned into Katya, placing a hand on the small of her back as she spoke. “Who’s Michelle?”

Katya turned to face her. “Michelle Visage. She’s Ru’s best friend. She’s a slut with big tits that give her directorial advice. Seriously, get a look at her knockers when you get a chance. I fucking love Michelle.” 

“She’s vicious,” Violet quipped. “And you’re sensitive, she’ll tear you to shreds,”

Katya wrapped an arm around Trixie’s waist and shook her head. “Don’t be a cunt like Vi and you’ll be fine,” 

“That… sounds manageable,” 

✘✘✘

Trixie was starting to realize that singing songs that weren’t her own was getting boring. As she fell in step with a few of the others backstage, she was wracking her brain for a way to ask Ru if she could start performing originals. RuPaul had said he didn’t mind if they changed up their routines, in fact, he recommended it. And something original could really corral people in the Cabaret. Trixie was turning into the dressing room when she was interrupted. 

“Trixie! Trixie, Trixie, Trixie!” Ron was calling her, no, yelling at her from backstage. She ran a hand through her hair before turning to face him, painting the biggest smile she could manage. 

“Hey, Ron!” Trixie gave a half-hearted wave as he ran to meet her at the end of the hall. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grinned. She noticed he was far more… outgoing, when they were alone. 

“Uh, I have some more photos from a couple nights ago. They’re not just of you, but I made you a personal set. You know, just to have a little piece to keep to yourself,”

“Oooh,” Trixie nodded her head, trying to hide the discomfort in her voice. “More? I haven’t even gotten through _all_ the others you copied for me,” Trixie scratched the back of her head. 

“Oh, really? Well, maybe I could… uh, come over tonight? We can look at them together. Order Chinese or something, I can bring wine…” 

“That… that sounds, uh, great. Really. But, I have plans tonight,” Trixie cringed. She was lying through her teeth, of course. She didn’t know why the idea of dating Ron churned such disgusting emotions out of her, but she didn’t like it. 

Ron frowned. “You’re always so busy, Trix. I just wanna spend a little time with you,” 

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry, Ron. But you know how the cast is! There’s always something to do with someone, and I want to be close to these—”

“Well, I’m a part of this group, too, it just seems like—”

“Trixie Mattel!” Katya’s head peeked out of the doorway, and she could tell she was already half-naked. “You still sleeping over tonight? I already rented Rocky Horror for us,” she gave Trixie an assuring wink before glancing at Ron. “Hey, Ronnie, how ya doing?” Ron gave a noncommittal wave and looked towards Trixie. 

“…Yeah, I’m really excited!” she gave Ron an apologetic look. “Thanks for the photos, Ron. Uhm, I promise we’ll get together soon, just not tonight. Great show! Goodnight!” Trixie shoved Katya in the dressing room and shut the door behind them. “Jesus, thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” 

Ginger spun on his stool. “What happened now?” 

“Ron’s trying to fuck the ever-living shit out of her virgin ass, and Trixie no likey!” Katya answered. 

“Oh, so you _are_ a virgin?” Violet provoked. Her grin was sly, and Trixie was repressing the urge to punch her. 

“Fuck off, Violet. I’m not in the mood,” Trixie joined Katya at their shared mirror and began scrubbing the copious amounts of makeup off her skin. 

“Are you going to actually spend the night?” Katya asked, taking the baby-hand-hair-clip off one of her braids. 

“If you want,” Trixie mused. “I don’t have anything with me,” 

“I could drive you to your place and get your stuff? Then we could grab snacks and come back,” 

“Well, why don’t we just stay at my place?” Trixie offered. “Kim gave me a ride this morning anyway, and you can grab your clothes from downstairs,” 

“Wait, are we doing a sleepover at Trixie’s?” Kim inquired, her face only half-covered by her makeup. 

“I don’t have a ton of room, it _is_ a hotel,” Trixie crooked her mouth. “I could probably share the bed with one other person, there’s a couch, a bean-bag… courtesy of Kim, and then the floor,” 

“It was _my_ idea. So, I’m sharing the bed with you,” Katya defended. 

“I’ll take the couch?” Kim offered. 

“If Chi Chi and I can come, we’ll take the floor?” Aja added. “One more spot, y’all! Trixie’s bean-bag seem appetizing to anyone?” 

Alaska smacked his lips. “I’ll come, Violet has a date tonight, anyway,” 

“Glad to know we’re first choice, ‘Laska!” Katya teased. 

“I can give rides! We could build a big pillow fort and use the left-over decorations from today and take pictures!” Kim squealed. “You guuuys! We haven’t bonded like this in ages!”

“Uhm, okay, meet at my place around… ten? 10:30?” Trixie shrugged. “Bring blankets and pillows for the fort!”

“10:30,” Kim was gathering up her bags. “Come on, you guys!”

✘✘✘

Trixie climbed out Katya’s filthy, little Honda, arms full of groceries and alcohol. While they had originally intended for the night to be a last minute get together, Trixie found the idea of a cast ‘party’ to be rather exciting. It was like the high-school-social-experience she never had, and now it was with people she actually liked. Katya rounded the car, a beat-up backpack over her shoulder as she followed Trixie to the hotel’s front entrance. She had been insistent upon changing into her pajamas at the club, and now she was in boxer shorts and the ugliest crochet dress Trixie had ever seen. It was the first time, shockingly, Trixie was little embarrassed to be seen with her. It was funny, nonetheless, the side eyes they received as they climbed up the stairs to her room. Trixie slid the key in the door and pushed her way inside, flipping on the lights as they went.  
For a hotel room, Trixie had made it rather homey. Much of the credit had to go to Kim, however. She had given Trixie old posters and art to hang over the course of her stay. The pink bean-bag, which sat in place of a nasty leather chair. She had draped fabric over the dresser and organized her perfumes and lotions. In the back of the room, beside her bed, was a rack filled with all her clothes and her shoes. It was all fairly organized. She had taped up a few of the photos she had received from Ron, a lot of them pictures of her, Katya, and Kim. They were scattered over her bed, on her fridge, and lodged in the cupboards. She liked her place, she appreciated her ability to create a home, even in one room.  
Katya tossed her bag on the couch and examined the room, walking around to look at each photo and each poster. Trixie, meanwhile, was organizing the snacks and drinks they had bought at a corner store. She grabbed her plastic, pink cups from the cupboard and some paper plates. 

“Do you think this will be enough food?” Trixie asked, scattering bags of candy and chips across the coffee table. “Maybe I should order a pizza? I got popcorn too,” 

“Have you ever hosted a sleepover?” Katya teased, hoisting the pink sheets off of Trixie’s bed. She began draping it to build the base of the fort, climbing on Trixie’s mattress, shoeless, thank God. 

“No, actually,” Trixie was wringing her hands. “I have some tape to hold that up—” she rummaged through a drawer in the kitchen before walking over to Katya, taping the thin sheet she had to her wall. 

“Trixie, you’ve never—?” 

“People never came to my house. My step-dad didn’t like it, didn’t like my friends,” Trixie shrugged. “It was usually just me and Pearl. And we’d sit on her roof and smoke pot and talk about life until three in the morning,”

Katya laughed, but only half-heartedly. “Tonight’s gonna be fun, don’t sweat it— wait, tape that to the rack too!” Trixie leaned over and wrapped the sheet in tape to get it to stay to her clothes rack. “Trixie?” 

“Hm?” Trixie, far too pre-occupied with preparations, didn’t even look up from where she was securing more tape. 

“How come you don’t tell Ron to fuck off?” She was staring at a rushed photo of Trixie and Ron that was taped over her bed. They were embracing. 

“Oh—” Trixie turned to face Katya. “He’s a sweet guy, I guess,” 

“But you don’t like him, do you?”

“I… don’t know how I feel,” Trixie said after a moment. “Maybe I’ll say yes one of these days, just not what I’m focused on, I guess.”

“Well don’t lead him on, that’s pretty shitty.”

“I don’t think I am?” Trixie flopped on her bed, staring up at Katya. Her friend followed suit. “Why do you always leave when he comes to help me in rehearsal?” 

“I’m not a fan of the hetero,” Katya joked, nudging Trixie in the ribs. 

“Oh, I’m too hetero for you?” Trixie laughed, biting down on her lip. 

Katya bit her tongue before speaking. “Nope,” 

Trixie was about to ask what exactly she meant by that when there was a knock at the door. She pulled herself from her bed and trudged across the room to, pull it open. Kim stood, arms full of pillows, blankets, and an overnight bag. Aja, Chi Chi, and Alaska stood crowded behind her, looking rather similar. 

“I found Rocky Horror in Alaska’s DVDs! We can watch it and talk about parts and shit!” Kim said gleefully. 

“You’re welcome,” Alaska drawled, dropping his things in a corner on the floor. “Ooh, you got Cheetos!” 

“And liquor!” Aja grinned, grabbing a beer bottle from the counter. 

Chi Chi went to reach for the two liter of Coke Trixie had also bought, but she slapped his hand away. 

“That’s for Katya, cunt. Our drinks are in my fridge and on the counter,” Trixie gestured to the kitchen. 

Kim and Alaska had begun busying themselves with improving the fort. They knotted three blankets to stretch from the bed over Trixie’s television, and created an overhang on each side. Pillows were tossed on the floor, thanks to Katya, and Aja hung their Christmas (technically Halloween) lights up along the headboard. She watched from the kitchen, a soft grin on her face. 

“Trix, my camera is in my bag if you wanna start the memory-making?” Kim offered. “I just got a new SD card,” 

“Speaking of,” Aja began, swiping the Rocky Horror DVD from his own things. “Are these all those photos Ron’s been giving you?” 

“This isn’t even half,” Trixie admitted. “But yeah, I just hung the best ones,” She retrieved Kim’s camera and snapped a few pictures, mostly of Katya in odd poses on the bed. 

“He’s not even with you and he’s whipped!” Aja shook his head and began setting up the DVD player. “Chi Chi’s not even _that_ whipped,”

Chi Chi made an irritated noise. “Uh, I ate your ass even though you forgot to douche,” 

`Katya burst into wild laughter, her feet kicking up and nearly knocking the fort where it was taped. 

“Watch it, cunt!” Alaska warned, plopping himself at the foot of Trixie’s bed. “Let’s play a game, I wanna learn everyone’s dirty secrets,” 

“You know my dirty secrets, Violet is your best friend,” Katya shrugged, positioning herself over the edge of the bed. Trixie handed Kim’s camera to her and grabbed two drinks from the counter. She climbed in next to Katya, a beer in one hand and a cup filled with coke in the other. She handed the cup to Katya. 

“Why not truth or dare?” Kim suggested, sitting on the floor nearest to Trixie. Aja and Chi Chi relented, joining the group beneath the fort. “And if you pass, you gotta drink,” 

“Sounds like fun,” Trixie mused, popping the tab off her beer. 

“I’ll start!” Alaska sat up on his haunches and scrutinized the group. “Truth or dare… Kimmy!” 

Kim grinned. “Truth,” 

“What’s the strangest placed you ever got fucked?” 

Kim busted out into gleeful laughter and leaned back on her hands. “Oh, fuck, uh… probably in an alleyway on 42nd Street? On the hood of my car,” 

“Kim, what the _actual_ fuck is wrong with you?” Trixie laughed. If this was the way the entire game was going to go (and she knew it was), she was about to be the most underwhelming game partner ever. Kim surveyed the group before landing, of course, on Trixie. She took a drink. 

“Truth or dare, Trixie,” Kim mused. She didn’t know what was going to be worse, Kim potential, revealing question, or what Kim might make her do. 

“Uh, dare. I choose dare,” 

“Hmm… Sit on someone’s lap until your next turn,” She requested flippantly. “And you have to face them,”

“I volunteer!” Katya screeched gleefully and sat up on the bed, turning so she was facing the group. Trixie took a sip of her beer and supposed there were worse things. She climbed in Katya’s lap (in the most platonic way possible, by the way), and straddled Katya’s muscular thighs.  
“Ooh, she’s warm,” Katya babbled, and the group busted into loud laughter. Trixie didn’t necessarily find this to be too scandalous, no, but facing Katya and trying to participate was going to be rather difficult. Focusing was going to be difficult, blame it on the beer (all three sips that she’s had this evening), but Katya was far too comfortable. They slotted together well, Trixie’s thickness and Katya’s bony edges… It was nice, and there was that tell-tale gleam Katya always had when Trixie looked at her. Katya’s fingers were resting on Trixie’s thighs, the only comfortable way this was going to work, she supposed. 

“Warm is a good thing?” Trixie asked, resting her arms around Katya’s neck. 

“Very good,” Katya wiggled beneath her. “It’s your turn,” she reminded. 

“Truth or dare…” Trixie craned her neck to face the group before ultimately turning back to Katya. “You. Truth or dare, Katya?” Trixie heard a click and saw a flash against her wall. Looks like Kim was making use her camera and was fully mocking her now. Katya pursed her lips and tucked a bit of Trixie’s hair behind her ear. She shivered. Beer. Beer, it was the beer. She took another, long sip. 

“Truth,” Katya sipped from her cup. 

“Ugh, Katya,” Aja began. “You’re so _boring_ ,” 

“Tell us about the last dream you had?” Trixie offered. 

“No, Trixie’s the boring one. She folds her fucking underwear,” Kim interjected. 

“Fuck you, Kim!” Trixie said shortly. “Kim doesn’t wash her vibrator!” 

The group reacted with a mix of disgust and laughter. “ _Trixie_!” Kim gasped. “That’s not true!”

“Can we get back to my wet dreams, Barbara?” Katya laughed wildly. “I was eating someone out,” 

“Gross, you fucker!” Kim tossed a pillow, but unfortunately, missed and hit Trixie in the back of the head. The group laughed again. “I’m not even mad, she deserves it,” 

Trixie craned her neck to look at Kim launched the pillow back. “Who, Katya?” 

Katya licked her lips before settling her tongue between her teeth. “Dolly Parton,” Something in Trixie’s stomach shifted and she opened her mouth, but no sound left her lips. Katya was staring at her, smirking, and Trixie thought she felt Katya’s hand flex against her thigh. 

“You’re the most disgusting human alive,” Alaska said coolly. “I’m glad Violet dumped you,” 

Katya, very obviously, chose to ignore Alaska and turned to Aja. “Truth or dare, bitch?”

“Dare me up, sis!” 

Katya’s hands slid up to Trixie’s waist as she thought about what to say next. As if Trixie was her little doll. She took another long sip of her beer. 

“Show us one of the nudes you sent, Chi Chi,” 

“Oh my _God_!” Kim collapsed against the bed. “Why are you punishing me for putting Trixie in your lap!”

✘✘✘

The game continued on for an hour, Trixie getting drunker by the minute. She’d only passed once, much to her own surprise, and it was because Aja wanted her to makeout with Kim. Something both girls happily declined to participate in. She didn’t pass, however, when she was dared to let someone give her a hickey. Her first hickey, that is, and Alaska reluctantly volunteered. A few minutes later and Trixie had a bright, purple mark on her collar bone and a tingling feeling in her chest. The alcohol surely had control by that point in the game, and Trixie was sure Kim had captured several of their antics on her camera. Chi Chi had to chug a half-bottle of wine, Katya had to perform a rather enticing strip-tease for the group, Kim had to confess her crush at work, (It was Ron, and that made Trixie’s stomach churn), and Trixie had to explain, in detail, one of her sexual fantasies. All in all, it was a great game. Trixie had changed into her nightgown, a frilly, pink little thing, after Aja had insisted that they _actually_ watch the movie.  
While Rocky Horror droned in the background, Trixie was snuggled beneath a blanket, Katya at her side. She was still far too buzzed, and she kept getting distracted by a loose thread in Katya’s nightgown-yellow-crochet-mess. 

“What parts do you guys want?” Aja asked the group. Trixie peeked on the floor beside her, he was snuggled into Chi Chi. They looked nice, all cuddled up. Trixie wanted to be snuggled like that. She turned to Katya. 

“Can we cuddle?” she whispered drunkenly. “Please?” Katya jerked her head towards the younger blonde before opening her arms. Too drunk to feel any kind of awkwardness, Trixie snuggled into them and rested her head on Katya’s right tit. It was nice. 

“Frank’n’Furter,” Katya spoke after no one answered Aja, “I really want Frank’n’Furter,”

“Janet,” Trixie slurred. “I’ve always wanted to play Janet,” 

Alaska smacked his lips. “Riff Raff! Violet wants Magenta and I could be her brother,” 

“… I want Janet, too,” Kim all but whispered. Trixie shifted on Katya’s chest, fingers digging into the yellow crochet. “Ginger’s gonna get Brad,” 

“You think?” Katya mumbled. “You don’t think he’s too short?” 

“Oh, he’s way too short, but he’ll die before he lets it go to anyone else,” 

Chi Chi yawned. “Guys, do you think Ru might let me audition?” 

“I don’t see why not?” Katya snorted. “You’re as much a part of our cast as anyone else, now, crowding the fucking dressing room…” 

The conversation had dulled to just odd voices, Trixie couldn’t focus. Not only was the alcohol making it impossible to think, but now Katya’s fingers had started carding their way through Trixie’s blonde curls. Her long digits felt amazing against her scalp, and the ministrations were lulling her to sleep. Trixie fought to keep her eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of the movie. Katya smelled good, too. Did she notice that before? Katya smelled so fucking good, and Trixie turned her head to bury her face in the scent. She felt… just a little delirious. Lost in a swirl of Katya with her perfume, her fingers, her jokes, her laughter. Just Katya. Katya, Katya, Katya. Why was that so comforting to drunk Trixie? Why did snuggling up to her seem to make sense? Fuck. She was falling asleep.  
When Trixie awoke next, she was still snuggled up to Katya, the room was bathed in darkness, lest for the Christmas lights beneath their fort and the television screen. The DVD menu was playing on an endless loop and Trixie looked up to see Katya clicking at a game on her phone. 

“Good evening, barbie. Sober now?” she whispered. Trixie sat up a little, her head spinning from the affects of the alcohol still in her system. Her throat was completely dry, and the thought of another drink made her head hurt. Thank God they didn’t have work in the morning. 

“No,” Trixie whispered, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?” 

“2:45. The movie ended a little bit ago, but I think everyone is out.” Katya sighed dramatically. “And with you bogarting my arm, I couldn’t put Kim’s bra in the freezer,” 

Trixie stifled her laughter. “We could do it now?” The thought of standing, however, made her ill. 

Katya shook her head. “Novelty’s worn off. Are you actually awake? Or are you gonna collapse back on my boob?” she had a sweet glint in her eye. 

Trixie blushed. “I think I’m awake for a while,” She stretched her aching joints before grabbing one of the extra pillows and tucking it under her head. It was better to lay back than sit up. “Why?” 

“Wanna play another game?” Katya rolled on her side and they were facing each other now. It was the first time Trixie didn’t have to look down to gaze into her eyes. 

“Sure, what is it?” 

“Another truth game. I wanna learn all your dirty, slutty secrets. You just can’t pass.” Katya was gleaming, and Trixie groaned. She was going to need another drink, but that sounded disgusting. 

Hoping she had enough alcohol to in her system to get through this, she replied reluctantly. “You start,” 

“What is your religious affiliation?” Katya wiggled her brows. 

Trixie busted out a loud laugh and then rushed to cover her mouth. “Oh, uh, kinky,” she responded. “I’m baptized Catholic… but I think I’m an atheist,” Trixie shrugged. “What’s your favorite candy?” 

“Skittles,” Katya said with a grin. “Or Paydays.” She tucked her arm beneath her head. “Can crop circles be square?”

“Yes,” Trixie grinned. “Mmmm… what was your first thought when you woke up this morning?” 

“Uh, need cigarette. Same as every morning,” Katya paused. “Hm… what color are your nipples?” 

Trixie groaned and buried her face in the pillow. Katya prodded her impatiently. “No passing, mama,” 

“Dark, _I_ think they’re dark for my skin tone, anyway,” Trixie laughed. 

“Are we talking red hues? Brown? Pink?” Katya was laughing, hand tangling in Trixie’s. 

“Fuck off! Ugh. Uhm… what’s your favorite thing about me?” Trixie teased. 

“Your nipples— Okay, I’m kidding— Your terrible jokes,” Katya answered coolly, grinning. “What was your first thought when you met me?” 

Trixie paused, thinking back to that day just a month ago. “You mean when you flashed me, you cunt?” Katya surged into maniacal laughter and Trixie reached across the bed to cover her mouth. That only resulted in Katya licking her hand and Trixie recoiling. “Bitch!” 

“Answer the question!” Katya urged quietly. 

“I thought ‘why the fuck is this bitch shirtless and what the fuck do I do about it?’!” 

“You stared at me for two minutes, you love this bod,” Katya ran her hands over her sides and gyrated her hips. 

“I’ll kick you out of my bed.” 

“You’re not denying it,” 

“I’m not admitting it,” Trixie challenged. “I was in _shock_ , little did I know that it was going to be a common occurrence in my life,” she rolled her eyes as Katya flailed in wild laughter. Alaska groaned loudly from his beanbag. 

“Shut _up_!” He whined, covering his head with the blanket. 

Katya’s suppressed her laughter, even though she looked as if she was going to burst. Trixie shook her head at the sight and bit her lip, trying not to crack up. 

“Uhm,” Trixie wracked her brain for another question, but it was still hard to think. “What was your first impression of _me_?” 

Katya, still grinning, reached a hand out for Trixie. “Do you want the honest answer?” she teased. Trixie took Katya’s hands and compared the sizes. Her hands were slight bigger than Katya’s, but she was also taller, thicker. 

“Yes, I want the honest answer,” Trixie scrunched up her face. 

“Is it gonna make you uncomfortable with me?” Katya’s words were punctuated with laughter, but there was something serious there. 

“No, I promise,” Trixie ran her hand down Katya’s wrist and played with the rope bracelet clasped on her arm. It had eyeball charms glued lazily to its purple base, and Trixie was 98% sure Katya made it. 

“That you’re the hottest fucking girl I’ve ever seen,” Katya swore. She was grinning, as per usual, but there was something interestingly serious about her. Trixie scoffed, loudly, and dropped her gaze back to Katya. 

“You’re full of shit,” Trixie argued. 

“You _are_!” Katya cried. 

“You dated _Violet_!” 

“Trixie, you have the nicest ass in the country,” Katya was starting to giggle again. 

“Oh my God,” Trixie rolled over, biting her tongue to hide the inevitable grin on her face. “You’re a liar!” 

_Smack!_

Trixie let out a yelp. Katya had slapped the part of Trixie’s butt that had been left vulnerable by her nightgown. The sound was loud and there was a rather dull sting where her friend’s hand had made it’s contact. Sure, the act was intrusive and odd, and maybe it should’ve bothered her… but she was tired, and still buzzed, and this was _Katya_ they were talking about. 

“It’s so jiggly, Barbara,” Katya confessed. 

Trixie, no holds barred, nearly screamed out in laughter, Katya immediately falling in with her. She was too drunk to really give a damn, even when Kim tossed one of the television remotes for their heads. A chorus of ‘shut up’s and ‘fuck you’s rang out about the room, and Trixie had to bury her face in her pillow to muffle the noise. Katya had a vice grip on Trixie’s arm, and she was slapping it as she continued to laugh. They certainly made a great pair.  
Once the hysterics had died down, the two girls relaxed into the mattress, Katya had flopped on her back, panting a bit from the force of her laughter. Trixie was wiping tears and her head ached, but she was still smiling. Still grinning. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed that hard. 

“I think you’re my best friend,” Katya had said after a moment. She slipped her hand into Trixie’s and squeezed. Trixie squeezed back, feeling Katya’s eyeball bracelet dig into her wrist. She didn’t mind. 

“You’re my best friend, Katya,”

Silence stretched over them, and Trixie found it oddly comforting. Katya was caressing soft circles on the inside of her wrist. She was at peace, they both were. Completely comfortable, content with one another’s presence. Trixie was hit with the aching need to ask Katya everything. To learn about every bit of everything about her. But first, there was a question that had been burning her throat for a month, since that Saturday at the mall. 

“Kat?” Trixie whispered. She heard the other woman shift on the bed. 

“What’s up?” Trixie hesitated, rapping her fingers nervously against Katya’s. Why was she so nervous? “Trixie?” 

“Can I ask you a question you have every right not to answer?” Katya had rolled on her side again, facing Trixie at full-attention. 

“I’ll probably still answer it. I got you to tell me what color your nipples are,” There was humor in her tone and Trixie relaxed significantly. 

“…Uh, what _actually_ happened between you and Violet?” Trixie felt Katya’s fingers slip from Trixie’s and watched as that same hand tugged through the tangles in her hair. 

“What didn’t happen?” Katya laughed, but it was brief, and it seemed Trixie may have struck a nerve. Great, she ruined the moment. 

‘You don’t have to—"

“No, no! Trixie, I want to tell you, it just really _is_ a lot,” Katya sucked in a breath. “Violet’s only been at the Lounge for three… maybe four years, one of which she spent the majority of in my pants,” Katya forced a soft grin. “We used to be really close friends. She’s funny, smart, we have pretty compatible personalities— a match made in lesbian heaven,” Katya rolled on her back, but Trixie watched her profile. She kept track of each emotion, each expression as Katya spoke. “She had a huge crush on me. She wanted to be my girlfriend and she kept sending all these signs,” Katya shook her head, there was a sentimental smile perched permanently on her lips. “This bitch fully flashed me, numerous times, and I still didn’t get it. I just thought she was being a total cunt-waffle, you know how she is,” she was gesturing wildly as she spoke, as if her arms could add a whole new meaning to the story. Trixie thought they did. “Anyway, I’m not a relationship person, like, at all. At that time, I was going out every other night and hooking up with a new chick after the show. Sometimes an audience member! And I remember—” Katya paused. “I’d come back in the morning and Violet would ignore me, or just be short with me. I didn’t get it! Do you believe that? I still didn’t fucking know she liked me!” Katya dropped her arms to her sides. “I’m such a straight-forward person. If I wanna fuck a girl, believe me, Trixie, she knows.” Trixie nodded. She had tangled one of her legs with Katya’s and felt the soft prickle of hair. It didn’t bother her, but the fact that she was having a hard time focusing on Katya’s words was. 

“So, how’d you end up together then?” Trixie asked. 

“I was leaving to go pick up a girl after the show, you know, fixing my hair, changing out of my costume, when Violet kinda… cornered me,” Katya started to laugh. “She was so angry, it was kinda cute. Her anger, my obliviousness, it’s a shock we didn’t work out!” Katya continued on. “We… fucked. And she admitted she wanted more than just a casual hook-up, that she really, _really_ liked me. That she’d been waiting for my oblivious-ass to make the first move...” Trixie sat up to combat her sleepiness. It was her only defense. Katya didn’t follow suit but moved so her face was resting beside Trixie’s thigh. “I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, but she was such a great _friend_. And, I figured our relationship wasn’t going to be more than two friends fucking each other’s brains out... so I said yes.” Katya was drawing circles on Trixie’s thigh. It was distracting her from the story. “Vi fell in love, I guess. And, she wanted _all_ my attention. I don’t like being clung to, I can’t be depended on emotionally, it cramps my style.” Katya huffed. “It actually gets worse. I started to avoid her. I took about five-hundred smoke breaks a rehearsal, I’d hide in my room and pretend to be asleep when she came around… Violet literally took up _smoking_ to spend time with me! I shouldn’t have let her do that.” 

“You can’t control what she does,” Trixie soothed. She had slithered her fingers into Katya’s hair and was returning the favor from earlier. 

“It’s still my fault, I feel awful. I feel like she won’t quit just to spite me,” Katya scrunched her nose. “I know that sounds self-centered, but I feel like she won’t let it go and move on. I’m gonna be guilty forever,” Trixie hummed thoughtfully, her blunt nails scratching the very top of Katya’s scalp. She closed her eyes and arched back into Trixie’s touch, continuing to speak. “Eventually, we’re both such huge cunts, that every interaction we had was just angry. Not that it stopped the sex. I’ve never hate-fucked someone so much,” Katya snorted. “Rehearsing and shows were horrible, Violet tried to sabotage me on stage a couple times,” Trixie felt a twinge of anger in her chest. She tried to remain unbiased, after all, she still had to go in and _work_ with Violet but hearing that rubbed Trixie the wrong way. “I don’t blame her, I don’t blame her for anything but not being able to let go.” Katya sighed. “Our relationship lasted the better part of a year, and finally Ru had to separate us. Thank God he did because there was one night…” Katya whistled. “I think we all thought it was gonna get fucking physical— but I’d never hit Violet. I’d never hit anyone in our cast. I may have hated her fucking guts back then, but there was still so much of Violet I loved. Do love. She’s still a friend.” Trixie felt her heart swell three times for Katya. While the Russian’s humor was little odd, her style completely tasteless, and her personality a little jarring at times, she was… sweet. So sweet. She really considered each and everyone her family and that meant Trixie too. “Now, things are better, but she still shits on me whenever she gets the chance. I let her, it’s not like any of it hurts my feelings. Things will never go back to how they were, but I’ve made peace with that emotional turmoil,” Katya heaved a sigh and sat up, pushing herself against the headboard beside Trixie. She wrapped her arm around Katya’s shoulders and tugged her into her side. 

“Thanks for telling me,” Trixie said softly. 

“No problem, Suzanne,” Katya crooned. “But now, you gotta tell _me_ a heartbreaking story.”

“Can I take a raincheck? I won’t be able to keep my eyes open,” Trixie whispered, and it was true. Even despite her best efforts, Trixie’s eyes had started to droop throughout Katya’s story, and she barely made it through the end. 

Katya was grinning. “Only if you lay your head on my tits again,” 

“What tits?” Trixie asked with a yawn, already scooting herself into Katya’s side. She cackled, wildly and wrapped her arms around Trixie, tugging a thin blanket over the both of them. They fell into silence again, Trixie’s face buried into Katya’s nightdress. An overwhelming sense of bliss overtook Trixie, the whole room, even. And her comfortability with Katya was insurmountable. She started thinking about Violet, thinking about their relationship, and how Katya used her humor to play off the pain. Trixie reached for Katya’s hand and laced their fingers together. Her and Pearl never snuggled like this, but this was okay, best friends cuddled. Best friends did a lot of things her and Katya had that night. And it’s not like their friends saw a majority of it. Who says what relationships —friendships— can and can’t be? Who says you can’t have overwhelming affection for your best friend, in the dark, in your bed, a little past four in the morning?  
Trixie’s eyes slipped shut, and she fell asleep, surrounded by the scent and touch of the person who mattered most to her.  
Platonic. Completely, platonic.


	7. Just a Couple of Girls Being Gays— I Mean Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She didn’t know peacefulness could be brought by nighttime in the city. In the country, she could step out into the quiet dusk, her guitar swung behind her shoulders, and listen to the chirp of the Painted Reed Frogs. Her younger sister at her side, waiting for Trixie to play her favorite tune well into nightfall. She could hear the summer breeze in the grass, in the trees that were just a few feet away. She could feel it now, the fresh air, whipping her loose curls and nightie. The way the grass tickled her bare-feet in the soil, and the rare bug, that would climb over her toes. She’d watch the lightning bugs as the sun fell behind the horizon, the way they’d find one another just by their glow. How accomplished she’d feel when she’d catch one, or how her sister would squeal gleefully when she passed it to her hands. She supposed she did miss Wisconsin, or at least the good memories left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo, hullo! 
> 
> Brought to you by an existential crisis, lots of emotion, and my experience when I moved to the big city to join a professional theatre troupe... I give you Chapter Seven!!  
> It's eleven o'clock here, it's BASICALLY Wednesday, so I've brought you love & life in the form of Trixya fueled by Spotify and my sexuality. 
> 
> You guys give me life with the feedback and the showering of Kudos! Thank you so much!

Voices lulled Trixie from her sleep the next morning, despite not being able to understand what was being said. She was vaguely aware of an ache in her bones, and a heavyweight cocooning her body. The heat from Katya was completely overwhelming. Even where her hand was just laying on Trixie’s waist, she could feel it. But, she was trapped, not only was Katya’s arm hopelessly pinning her down, but she had wrapped one short leg over Trixie’s hips. She groaned, unsure how to go about moving without waking her friend. This was too much thought for a hangover.

“Say cheese, cunt!” Kim appeared in Trixie’s peripheral and snapped a picture of the two girls. The flash stirred Katya out of her resting, and Trixie promptly shoved her off.

“Good morning to you too, Brenda,” Katya groaned, stretching out her exhaustion. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost eleven,” Kim replied, plopping herself at the foot of Trixie’s bed.

“We were up until four, why the fuck would you wake us?” Katya rolled over to Trixie and enveloped her in her arms once more. “I’m going back to sleep,”

“No! Katya!” Trixie laughed and slithered her way out of her arms. She sat up, and her head spun for a long moment. She closed her eyes to settle the brief queasiness. 

“You seriously have a hangover? You didn’t even drink that much,” Alaska scoffed.

“Leave me alone,” Trixie groaned. “It’s just a headache, anyway. I’ll pop an Advil and call it a day,”

“Weeeeeeeak,” Katya teased, brushing Trixie’s thigh with her toe. “Someone’s not a party girl,”

Trixie slapped Katya’s foot away. “What’s happening today? Is everyone getting out of my place?”

“I kinda wanna hang out a little more,” Kim admitted sheepishly. “We don’t have to stay here,”

“If we do, y’all have to help me clean up,” Trixie warned.

“No, we’re going out,” Aja climbed on the bed to join the others. “But where?”

“Let’s go somewhere we can take cheesy photos for Trixie’s wall,” Kim lilted. “Please?”

“Why don’t we just walk around Boston, then?” Katya yawned. “There’s a whole bunch of fall festivals and shit. The boutiques will all be open on the other side of town— it’ll be like a big group date!”

“There’s still a lot of the city I haven’t seen,” Trixie began. “I really wouldn’t mind a tour,”

“Then I guess it’s settled,” Alaska supposed. “Let’s get the hell out of Trixie’s shack, and get on the road.”

✘✘✘

It took the group all of two and a half hours to get out of Trixie’s home. The rotation between clothes, and makeup, and hair was excruciating. They all crowded over Trixie’s two mirrors; one in the bathroom, one in the entryway. Aja insisted on a full face of makeup since there would be a photo-op, and honestly, so did Trixie and Kim. Trixie had decided on a short, warmly-colored, wild-patterned dress to go with the fall mood. She had high, black boots, and had tied her hair into a loose braid beneath a beret. Kim fished for clothes out Trixie’s rack, stealing one of her favorite pink dresses, while Alaska and Katya took down the fort and helped clean-up. Katya had dressed in a pair of black jeans and a sequined-shirt with ‘Bon-Jour’ in big white lettering. Trixie was a little obsessed with how good she looked in it all, it was the first article of clothing she owned that wasn’t cringe-worthy (That Trixie knew of, anyway). Alaska had a simple, white, button-down with him, Chi Chi had brought a tee-shirt and some jeans, and Aja had a pink shirt and some overalls.  
They all really did look adorable, with their own styles and uniqueness. You could vaguely see everyone’s personality, and Trixie liked that. She liked wearing her heart on her sleeve, so to speak. That was probably the one thing Trixie liked most about Boston. Everyone’s ability to exist as themselves as there were too many people to judge everyone.

Downtown wasn’t as much of a madhouse as Trixie had originally thought. It was Tuesday, however, and only two’o’clock. Alaska sat in the front of Kim’s car, where he demanded they stop for lunch, and Katya was strewn across Aja’s, Chi Chi’s, and Trixie’s laps in the back.  
Once they parked, the six found lunch and began their day out. Trixie was thankful for it. Thankful for the numerous amount of memories she was making, walking side-by-side with Katya and Kim. Kim snapping far too many photos of them. They worked their way down a strip of expensive boutiques, weaving in and out as they saw fit. Katya was narrating their way through the city, explicitly for Trixie’s amusement. She spoke in an old, oddly-toned voice, and continuously called Trixie ‘Maureen’. Trixie couldn’t stop laughing, even turning a few heads with the sound of both of their humored screams.  
There was a fall festival going on a down by the pier that Chi Chi insisted would be too beautiful to pass up. He wasn’t wrong. It was an arts festival, paintings, drawings, even photography were lined in little booths down the block. A live band played some quiet folk beneath one of the bar’s awnings, and a small crowd was gathered to listen. The leaves had fallen into the streets giving the city a well-placed pop-of-color, and… it was kind of romantic. People were scattered, minding themselves and admiring the world around them. This was the future Trixie had always hoped to have. Out of Wisconsin with good people, good friends. She glanced at Katya who had, as always, remained at her side for the entire trip. She was glancing over a flower-arrangement someone had thrown together.  
Trixie’s mind wandered to the night before. Sure, she was pretty out of it with the alcohol, but there was no mistaking the events with Katya. She was completely captivated by her. She couldn’t exactly figure out what that meant. She was aware of all the types of relationships you could have with people, Boston helped with that. Life isn’t as black and white as Wisconsin once had her believing… and maybe her feelings with Katya were okay. Maybe the hugging and snuggling weren’t such a huge deal. They were both clear, it was just a friendship, it held no other meaning. And that was okay.

“Mm, someone needs to bring me on a date out here,” Alaska lamented.

“A date sounds nice,” Kim added, glancing over an oil-painting of a lake.

“Ask out Ron, then. He’s straight, unfortunately,”

“Straight people don’t flock to the nearest hetero to them, Alaska,” Kim laughed. 

“When they work in a gay club they do!”

Trixie was half-listening to them speak, half-drawn in by a city-skyline someone had painted in intricate detail. The buildings were tall with high, pointed peeks and domes. It looked modern, but the architecture was traditional.

“That’s Moscow,” Katya said from behind her. “The capital of Russia,” she was staring at the painting as well, her hand on Trixie’s waist.

“Do you remember anything about living in Russia?” Trixie asked quietly. “It looks beautiful,”

Katya squinted her eyes. “Just stuff about family, and farms, and shit. I was seven when we left,”

“Do you want to go back?” Trixie tore her eyes from the painting and looked down at Katya.

“Yeah, someday. This Russian bitch needs to get back to her roots, live and breathe the strong Soviet air, and do splits on the soil,” Katya slid easily into her Russian accent. “You should come with me, whenever I go,”

“If I can force you to come back to Wisconsin,” Trixie teased. “Make you live on my poor farm, and deal with David,”

Katya laughed. “Oh, speaking of step-fathers, you owe me a sob-story from last night, Deborah,”

Trixie hesitated for a moment. “Where do I start?” she laughed a little.

“How about why you ran away from Wisconsin?” Katya suggested. “Have I advanced far enough in this relationship to learn that?” Trixie glanced down the road to find Aja, Chi Chi, Kim, and Alaska arguing over a dinner plan, and she figured she had a little while. Trixie laughed at her comment, before hesitating. I _had_ been a month. She could try talking about it. 

She refrained from looking at Katya for a moment. “Ever since I was a little kid, my friends and I were the odd ones out, you know?” she began. “And, in theory, that’s okay. But when you’re graduating class is literally _only_ thirty-two people, and anything you have ever done ever follows you around, it’s… it’s pretty isolating,”

“ _Thirty-fucking-two?_ ” Katya asked incredulously.

Trixie nodded. “Yeah, and, you know, I was a good kid, My grades were great, I was involved in church, and music, and theatre, and I never really did anything I shouldn’t have… but _none_ of that mattered to my parents, more specifically my step-dad,” Trixie paused, she started walking over to the pier’s edge, Katya listening intently as they went. “He’d come at me for the littlest things. And I handled it for the most part, but… it got so much worse beginning of freshman year, I… kinda fucked up,” she laughed harshly. “I went to this party my friend Pearl threw. A lot of kids from school were there, including this girl. Her name was Shea. And Shea and I got… fucking smashed.” Trixie laughed a little. “Okay, so maybe I wasn’t the _best_ kid. There was pot, and alcohol and everybody was just kinda losing it that night. And, I honestly don’t even remember what happened, we were so plastered. But rumor had started that… that we fooled around, that we fucked, or whatever,” she shook her head. “It got around to my church, my parents, my teachers, Katya, _everyone_ thought I did this. And it fucking— no one would look me in the eye. My mom made me go work with the pastor for months, I wasn’t allowed to miss any church. My step-dad used the word ‘dyke’ more than my name. And I couldn’t do anything, I was fifteen. Thank God, I had Pearl, Katya, I can’t even _tell_ you. She stuck by my side through all of it, even when my parents hated her,” Trixie sighed. She needed to text Pearl more, needed to show her appreciation, even now. Katya was looking at Trixie with such gentle eyes. 

“You don’t have to finish if you don’t want,” she said softly.

“No,” Trixie sniffed and wiped her eyes. “You know what color my nipples are, I have to finish,” Katya barked a laugh at that, Trixie smiled at her. “It just sucks. People always assumed _that_ of me, and it’s always been like, worst case scenario thing.” She thought she heard Katya mumbled something along the lines of ‘it’s not’, but Trixie chose to continue her story. “Uh, so, anyway, the reason I left Wisconsin is that Shea came home to visit from college. And, I should’ve known better, but she asked me to hang out, and we did. I went to her place, had several drinks, and Shea let me stay over,” Trixie cleared her throat. “One of my mom’s friend’s saw me leaving the next morning and called her. When I got home from work—” Trixie blew a long stream of air and shook her head. “Man, David threatened to kick me out, screaming all these horrible things at me, he…” Trixie stopped again. “He was… _inches_ from my face, screaming. My older brother stepped in, and I went upstairs, packed my shit,” Trixie tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what brought me to Boston other than the urge to just get the hell out. I didn’t tell anyone I left, not one person. I just did. I had no plan, and only a little bit of money. And I had every intention of going back… until I didn’t have to anymore,”

Katya looked at her feet, and then back up at Trixie. “That makes so much fucking sense, and I hope you know that,”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, Maureen, everything you have ever said to me just all connected like some wild-fucking-web, and I feel like I am seeing God for the first time,” she had fallen into that oddly-toned voice she knew made Trixie laugh. And it did. And Trixie rolled her eyes and giggled endlessly. Katya had such a calming effect on her. 

“Damnit, you can’t be taken seriously!” Trixie scolded. Katya was flashing her that perfect smile again, and Trixie’s heart melted just a little.

“Would it help if I gave you a hug?” she asked, far more seriously this time. 

“I can’t decide if I need a hug, an extra-large coffee, six shots of vodka, or to crawl into bed and never wake up,” Trixie laughed softly and took Katya into her arms. Katya was laughing with her, but quietly, calmly(that’s a first). It was brief, Trixie separating them in case any strangers caught their eyes. 

“You’re stuck with us, Barbara,” she smirked. “I’ll make sure of that,”

✘✘✘

The argument over dinner was a brief one. Alaska wanted to go a fancy, French restaurant three blocks over, Kim wanted Whataburger, and Katya settled it by saying they were going to go a small café at the end of the block. It was a locally-owned vegetarian place, and she wanted Trixie’s first tour of Boston to remain about her. Trixie was flattered (also positive she was trying to make her feel better), and shocked by the fact no one even tried arguing with Katya. They walked in, combined two tables, and staked their claim of the back of the house. Katya was beginning to live at Trixie’s hip. She pulled out a chair for her and slid in beside her, it was funny, Katya was treating her like a date. 

“What do you think you’re gonna have?” she asked Katya over her menu. 

“A cigarette, definitely,” Katya joked. 

“Ugh, you disgusting _loser_ ,” 

“You still love me, Trixie Mattel,” 

“I never admitted to that in the first place,” 

“Yeah, well--”

“ _I’m_ having the risotto!” Aja exclaimed. 

Kim groaned and leaned her face in her hands. “Thank you!” 

“For what?” Trixie creased her brows. 

“For shutting you two up,” Alaska confirmed, not even bothering to look up from his menu. Katya looked far too offended and laced her fingers in Trixie’s. 

“How _dare_ you disrespect my love like this?” Katya’s loud utterance caused many heads in the restaurant to turn, and Trixie got cold-feet, for the first time all day. She quickly unlaced her fingers from Katya’s and slid her hand beneath the table. Katya didn't skip a beat, she found Trixie’s hand once more, gave it a quick squeeze, and then placed it in her own lap. 

“Jesus Christ, Katya. Don’t get us kicked out,” Alaska hissed. 

“Today was fun,” Kim changed the topic and pulled out her camera. “Trixie, I got some really good shots, you photogenic whore. You should look at them.” As she passed the camera towards Trixie, Aja swiped the camera from her clutches. 

“I wanna look at Chi Chi’s and I’s first!” 

Kim swiped the camera back. “Don’t take my shit!” she passed the camera more carefully to Trixie. “Or I’ll delete those pictures,”

When Trixie fiddled enough with the digital, she found many angry-faced photos of Alaska, several pictures of Aja and Chi Chi, and a few oddly-angled selfies of the group. Kim teased _her_ for being photogenic, but Kim looked positively perfect in every photo. Her crooked smile and flawless skin, to be honest, they all looked great. Gleaming complexions, smiling faces… Trixie grinned at the camera, a sense of glee settling in her chest.  
It took forever for her to get to the pictures of her and Katya. There were so many. Kim had snapped photos of their heartfelt-hug on the pier, looking over paintings, walking side-by-side, engrossed in conversation. “You two photograph _reallly_ well. I think it’s your hair. You always seem coordinated because it’s so similar.” she spoke over her water. Katya was leaning over her shoulder, a respectful distance away, and gazing at them with Trixie.  
There was one photo, however, that took her breath away. They were holding hands, Trixie had grabbed Katya when she had said something particularly hilarious, and they were hunched. Each girl had the biggest smile they could probably manage and the sun was glowing behind them, through the sparse trees and tall buildings. Katya’s eyes were crinkled in the way they always did, and she was looking at Trixie with pure enjoyment. Trixie had a hand, halfway to her mouth in mid-laugh (scream), and her beret had fallen crooked on her head. They looked like they had known each other for years, like two best friends who might as well be blood. She had never experienced a closeness like she had in Boston. She had never formed meaningful relationships in Wisconsin, not like this. Not in such a short time.  
She continued to scroll, there were more of her and Katya. The one from this morning, where Trixie was tangled in Katya’s limbs, a few from last night. Everyone was wide-eyed, giggly, holding onto to each other as there were pictures from each dare, each truth. Trixie glanced over at Katya, who was grinning wildly. 

“I hope this doesn’t bother you, but if you were gay,” she paused. “We’d make the most adorable couple,” 

Trixie mulled over the thought. “Yeah, you’re probably right,”

Katya gave her a quick wink before turning to Kim. “Make sure I get a copy of the one where we’re laughing,” Katya spoke over Trixie’s head. “I need to put it in my resume when we become models,” 

“You’re laughing in all of them, dumbass,” Kim took the camera from Trixie’s hands. 

“The one where I’m holding her hand, come on, Kim. It’s the best photo in the bunch!” Katya scoffed. “Obviously, I’m in it,” 

“Oh, gross,” Alaska drawled. 

“I’m uploading most of them to Facebook. Which, by the way,” she nudged Trixie. “You haven’t added me back!”

“I don’t have time to check Facebook, Kim,” Trixie tossed her hair. “I have a very exquisite career to attend to,”

“Oh my God, you whore. All you do is play guitar and whine!” 

Katya screeched out in laughter, nearly knocking the table with her knee. “It’s true!”

Trixie gave both girls well-placed slaps before crossing her arms. “Fuck both of you! I do not _whine_!” 

“You whine,” Kim said briefly. “You probably whine when you cum, too. Like little baby whimpers—” 

“Kim! Shut up!” Trixie felt her blush creep up her cheeks as the table around her laughed and grinned at Trixie’s fragile expense. 

“Please,” Alaska began. “She’s too innocent, I doubt she masturbates without thinking it’s gay,” 

Katya choked on her water and had to hold her hand to her mouth to retain the liquid. She was shaking from the force of her laughter, and the sight was certainly funnier than the comment, Trixie thought. 

“Literally, go fuck yourself,” Trixie snapped. 

“No, okay, can we settle this?” Alaska placed her hands on the table as if he was addressing a crowd and not five of his coworkers. “Why _are_ you so touchy about the gay thing?” 

Trixie opened her mouth a few times, and the closed it. The group was looking at her rather intensely, even Katya who already knew the answer. 

“… I don’t have anything against being gay,” Trixie said calmly. “Really. My best friend has had several girlfriends, I know I come from… a conservative background,” Trixie rolled her eyes. “It’s just, uhm, I don’t know. Some people tend to assume that about me, and it gets a little irritating,” 

“A little irritating isn’t full-blown crying over it,” Aja pried. 

“Hey,” Katya placed a hand on the table as if to settle the air. “If it bugs her, it bugs her. It’s none of our business,” 

Alaska rolled his eyes. “Mm, easy for you to say. I bet she told you the whole story after you bashed on Violet last night at— what was it? Four in the morning?” 

Katya’s face contorted into something akin to a grimace. “Hey, I didn’t bash her. I said my piece,” 

“Why’d you eavesdrop?” Trixie scrunched up her nose. “It’s none of your business,” 

“Violet is my best friend. I make it my business. And besides, you two woke everyone up with all your screaming. Didn’t have a choice,” 

“Can we change the subject?” Chi Chi groaned. “Maybe actually order our food?” 

“Good idea,” Kim chimed. “Very good idea,” 

It was Trixie’s turn to be the good friend. She reached beneath the table as the group fell into silence, and laced her fingers in Katya’s, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Katya didn’t look up from her menu, made no visible show that Trixie had helped, other than a gentle squeeze in return. She didn’t let go of her hand after that. 

✘✘✘

The sun had fallen, and the air had gone cold, causing Trixie to wrap herself in her long, pink coat. By the time they left the restaurant, most of the artists had packed their things and left for the night, and the street was barren, lest for a few stragglers as they listened to the band’s last set. It was peaceful, the lights from the buildings were glistening on the water in the distance. The sky was clear, the moon just a sliver of light above them. The scene was something out of a movie, or a novel. The wind picked up and Trixie leaned a little closer to Katya, shoving her hands in her pockets. 

“You’re cold?” she asked, glancing up at Trixie. 

“Freezing,” she laughed. “How are you _not_? You don’t even have a jacket.”

“The fire in my pussy is an ever-burning flame that keeps my blackened soul at an appropriate climate,” Trixie’s jaw fell open for a moment and she turned away from Katya, who was already laughing endlessly at her own words. Trixie had half-a-mind to choke the smile right off her face, but she liked looking at it far too much. 

“I don’t like you!” she called. “I don’t wanna do this with you anymore!” 

Katya was cackling still, hunched over just like in the photo from earlier. “No, no! You have to! Please!” 

The group was advancing slowly toward the pier, and Trixie could feel the air turning colder with each step toward the water. Katya had guided the both of them to a park bench, one overlooking the water. She said something about this being a spot she’d smoke with her friends, but Trixie wasn’t listening.

She didn’t know peacefulness could be brought by nighttime in the city. In the country, she could step out into the quiet dusk, her guitar swung behind her shoulders, and listen to the chirp of the Painted Reed Frogs. Her younger sister at her side, waiting for Trixie to play her favorite tune well into nightfall. She could hear the summer breeze in the grass, in the trees that were just a few feet away. She could feel it now, the fresh air, whipping her loose curls and nightie. The way the grass tickled her bare-feet in the soil, and the rare bug, that would climb over her toes. She’d watch the lightning bugs as the sun fell behind the horizon, the way they’d find one another just by their glow. How accomplished she’d feel when she’d catch one, or how her sister would squeal gleefully when she passed it to her hands. She supposed she did miss Wisconsin, or at least the good memories left behind.  
The roads were loud here, the band’s folksy tune was a bit overbearing, and the water lapping at the pier could be heard, but… Trixie still felt peace. A new kind. It promised better times, new beginnings, and new friends. She glanced around her. Alaska was talking quietly with Kim, he was smiling, they looked peaceful. Aja and Chi Chi were hand-in-hand, pointing over the skyline, naming each building to the best of their memory. They looked peaceful, too.  
And Katya. 

“Have you ever been in love?” 

Trixie shook herself from her daydream, her eyes landed on Katya, who was staring intently at Chi Chi and Aja.

“What?” 

“Have you ever been in love?” she repeated, more matter-of-factly, this time. 

“No,” She was a little embarrassed by the admission.

Katya glanced at her briefly. “Me neither, but I think I’m okay with that,” 

“I’m not,” she whispered, following Katya’s gaze to her friends, the lovebirds. 

“You’ll find someone. Could even be Ron,” Trixie laughed softly, tossing her head back. 

“You’re the worst, Yekotereena,” 

Katya screamed, her arms flailing. “That was the worst I’ve ever heard _anyone_ butcher my name! And I went to public-fucking-school!” 

Trixie threw her hands up, flustered. “Then teach me, bitch!” 

Katya looked at Trixie as if she was judging the validity of her cry. “Fine. Buck up, bitch. This about to be one long, Russian ride,” Katya pulled her legs up onto the bench, her knees tucked to her chest as she began to speak. “Okay, so Yekaterina. Petrovna. Zamolodchikova.” 

Trixie screwed her face up. “Syllable by syllable, Katya. I can barely speak English,” 

She barked out a laugh. “Okay, okay, okay. Yekaterina. Say Yekaterina, you dirty American,” 

Trixie giggled. “Ye-Kat-” she emphasized the ‘t’, and tried to produce the sound from the back of her mouth. Just as Katya did. “-terina,” 

Katya was grinning, madly. “Yekaterina! Do it all at once, come on,” 

“Yekaterina,” Trixie tried to recreate what she thought she was hearing from Katya. The sound came from somewhere in the back of her throat, she noticed and ended in the forefront of her mouth. 

Katya looked considerate. “Could’ve been worse,”

“Fuck you!” 

“Petrovna.” Katya was already moving on. “That one really isn’t hard, just— emphasis on the ‘ro’, and maybe roll it a little,” 

“Petrrrovna,” Trixie paused. “Like that?”

“I mean…” Katya was biting her lip, looking positively mischievous. Trixie slapped her, directly in the chest, an embarrassed grin on her face as they both laughed. 

“You’re not a very good teacher, Yekaterina!” Trixie chided, rolling her ‘r’ on the name. 

Katya grinned. “That was right! You said it right!” 

“Right, only anger can bring out the true Russian in me,” Katya flopped back against the bench, her loud screeching making Trixie cringe, even through her laughter. She enjoyed seeing her like this, no matter how annoyingly embarrassing it could get. 

Katya remained, perfectly laid back on the bench, except she pushed her feet into Trixie’s lap. “Zamolodchikova,”

“Zam-mo-low-cheek-koh-va,”

“Mush the last part together, like you’re trying to get it out real fast,” Katya was gesturing wildly as she spoke. “The emphasis is on Zamo, mama,” 

“Zamolodchikova?” 

Katya popped her head up. “You called?” 

Trixie grinned. “Yek… Yekaterina Petrrrovna Zamolodchikova?” 

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova, but your dad just calls me—”

“Katya,” Trixie finished.

“Trixie,” 

They were staring at each other now, Katya having sat up at the mention of her nickname. The roar of engines and horns and the live music being a barrier between what would be silence. Trixie could hear the waves, could feel the breeze pushing the pieces of hair that fell loose from the braid she tied off hours ago. She smiled at Katya who seems to never have a grin off her face. She likes that. Liked that she’s always happy. A flash, a very familiar flash, broke the two women from their staring contest, and Trixie rolled her eyes.

“Kim!” Trixie huffed, standing from her spot on the bench. “Come on, I probably look a mess by now. My skin probably looks like shit in the flash—”

“Don’t be a whiney, it’s one photo,”

Katya rounded the bench to join Trixie. “I agree! I’ve had enough photos for one day,” Katya groaned. “Please, Deborah, no more pictures! I’m a modest woman!” 

Trixie laughed. “Modest? Sometimes, I can’t handle your headassery,” Katya reached around Trixie and wrapped her arms around her from behind. After a brief glance around them, Trixie leaned back into the hug. They were hidden around a building’s corner, Trixie figured they’d be away from prying eyes. Kim rolled her eyes and left to meet with Chi Chi and Aja, who were far more appreciative of the photo ops. Trixie laughed as she pressed back into Katya. 

Katya cocked her head. “What? What? What?” 

“Nothing! I just _like_ you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, y'all can hit me up on Tumblr [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Love you all!!


	8. One Long-Ass Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie shrieked indignantly, nearly shoving Katya off the stool she was currently occupying. She watched as Katya wobbled nervously on the edge, but used Trixie’s arm to tug herself upright, laughing as she did. They were clutching each other now, just coming off the high of their laughter, of their enjoyment of one another. Trixie didn’t let go of her arm, and Katya didn’t let go of Trixie’s. She could feel the pads of Katya’s calloused fingers digging gently into her forearms, the bite of her painted fingernails into Trixie’s freckled skin. She glanced briefly around the restaurant, making sure no one was creeping on them and making any kind of judgment based on one of many moments of their intimacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am dirt. I am trash. And I am sorry.  
> I know it's been a while, and if you follow my Tumblr, there's an ask on there explaining why. ALSO SHOUT OUT TO THAT PERSON FOR SENDING ME MY FIRST ASK AND LITERALLY MAKING MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE!! 
> 
> I'd like to thank my amazing beta who shit on my fic while simultaneously making it better :D She's literally my new best friend and she's been here for me every single day. I'm her 'princess in a tower' and I adore her. She's my aesthetic. Her blog is [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)
> 
> IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION: I've neglected to put any kind of a trigger warning for the end of this fic. There is a non-consensual kiss at the end,(I know its a spoiler, but this is more important). I don't want anyone to get triggered, and there is some mild-discussion of it in the next chapter as well, nothing in detail. Read carefully, stay safe, I love all of you. 
> 
> You guys are great with feedback and the kUDOS MOTHER! Keep'em coming<3

Music was freeing. It allowed Trixie to vent her frustrations, to breathe a little bit easier when she felt like she was suffocating. The feeling of guitar strings, manipulated only by her fingers, made her feel like there was some semblance of control in her unpredictable life. When she’d get off the phone with her mom, feeling empty and pained, her guitar would be there for her, whispering soft songs in her ears. It would comfort her with easy, simple melodies she knew only vaguely from her childhood, from her experiences riding in cars with the radio on, and dancing backstage with Katya during a show. 

The weight of the instrument’s neck was grounding, like another bit of gravity keeping her from floating somewhere in the space of her big, blonde head. 

It wasn’t often she got into this headspace of needing to lose herself momentarily in the sound of a new song she wrote, or even in the gentle tune of Melissa Etheridge and Aimee Mann. Her mind whirred at speeds quelled only by melody, even if just for a little while. These moments were only ever brought on by exhaustion, or off the tip of a heavy conversation. She told Katya more than she wished last night. This momentary lapse left her up half the night wondering if it skewed the Russian’s view of her. 

She sat quietly, alone, her fingers gathering over the instrument, caressing its body as if it might be a lover… to Trixie, she was.

Her guitar, the one bestowed upon her by her grandfather, marked by many dings and scratches by an eleven-year-old Beatrice, unsure of how to carry it; how she should hold and take care of the glistening wood and metal strings. Knocking it around when learning how to replace the G string, as it snapped under its age. It was so old, she remembered thinking. How many people had played it? How many fingers expertly slid up and down its fragile neck to create the sound she adored beyond measure?

If Trixie had to pick between love and her old guitar, she’d choose the guitar any day of the week.

Her guitar was love. It held her few good memories from Wisconsin, of her grandfather's laugh at her young fumblings, of her first performance for her family, her first performance in front of her school. The rush of an audience’s applause, or their enamored screams when she stepped onstage in Boston. The way Ru would catch her eye after a particularly good run and make her feel like she had conquered the world. Like the parental validation she never knew she needed. The warm feeling in her chest when Katya hugged her, smelling of cigarettes and soap and the hint of sweat the Russian accumulated with her nerves. The way she felt welcome here, as a performer, as a friend, as a human who was so much more than what anybody could ever say about her. That bliss was always brief. 

Trixie closed her eyes and let out a long breath before setting her guitar aside, in the stand she had placed beside her mirror in the dressing room. She let her fingers linger, gently, carefully over the neck, the tuning pegs, before finally pulling away. She was the only one here. It was nine in the morning and even Katya hadn’t trudged in with her chipper attitude and the second cup of coffee she always made for Trixie. Only for Trixie. 

A long day of rehearsal awaited her and her tired limbs, still exhausted from the previous day’s activities in the chill of downtown Boston. At least she felt at peace. Sure, she’d been there a month, one long, eventful month, but she couldn’t help the feeling of being one step behind her colleagues most days. She hadn’t performed nearly as much as any of them. Ginger was practically raised in the theatre, Katya had been tumbling on mats since she could talk ( _what an unfortunate combination for Katya’s parents,_ she thought with a grin), and even Violet had been thrown in pageants, a toddler in a tiara… that, Trixie deemed, was far too fitting for Violet. 

Today was the first day she didn’t feel that one step below, behind, away from the group that had carefully taken this poor Wisconsinite into a whole new world. Kim helped her adjust and move in, Katya allowed her to realize what kind of friendship she needed, Aja and Chi Chi proving even the cutest of relationships can be the most annoying (which is kind of irrelevant, but still true), and Ru. Ru taught her that she could always choose her family, even if he already chose for her. 

The door to the dressing room swung open, the handle making a dull thunk as it hit the opposite wall. Katya appeared, cringing at the noise, but shrugging once she saw Trixie sitting alone. She was holding two cups of coffee, and the corners of her mouth turned up at the sight, her smile going all the way up to her eyes.

“Morning, mama,” Katya spoke calmly, kindly. She handed Trixie the pink mug she’d been drinking out of for a few weeks now. She was sure Katya had bought it just for her. Trixie took a long sip of the warm liquid, relishing in the pinch of sweetness she always added for her. Katya mirrored her movement, and she wondered how the bitterness of her coffee, coffee she knew she took black, didn’t cause her to pull a face.

“Morning,” she responded finally, making peace with the last of the silence. “How’d you sleep?”

“I didn’t,” Katya wiggled her brows. Trixie knew what that meant, knew Katya had gone out to find a faceless lover to pass the night with. She took another sip of her coffee, too stubborn to part with the warmth flooding her hands. The idea of Katya sleeping around most nights didn’t bother Trixie at all. At least, it wasn’t like Katya was about to stop doing it, so there was no use overthinking it. Plus, it wasn’t any of Trixie’s business anyway. She just wanted Katya to be safe, and that was all.

“How long did it take you to get her out of your apartment after…?” she gestured vaguely. “y’know,”

“Easy ten minutes,” Katya sunk into the seat beside her, setting her matching black mug on the vanity’s surface. “She knew the deal, mama. Believe me.”

“You’re gonna be fucking exhausted,” Trixie bit playfully, “all day today, and during the show.”

“Kinda worth it…” she spoke with a satisfied huff of air. “You know how it is, old-habits-die-hard,” Katya’s teeth were gleaming beneath her bare, pink lips and Trixie just shook her head.

If someone asked Trixie to describe her relationship with Katya in three words, she’d definitely say it was loud, a little annoying, but fun. Definitely fun. That’s why, in these rare moments of quiet with Katya, in these simple conversations with light teasing, Trixie enjoyed her most. It reminded her that they didn’t just fool around, that they weren’t compatible with each other because people were watching. She had a deep connection with the short Russian beside her. There was almost an understanding, from day one. Trixie sometimes wonders if that’s because they met while Katya was half-naked in ugly fishnets and panties. Is that the kind of thing that creates an instant connection? Maybe.

“Old-sluts-die-quick,” Trixie corrected. Katya gave Trixie’s arm an affectionate slap as she laughed.

“You know, Michelle’s coming in today,” Katya switched the subject effortlessly. “I’m literally so fucking excited.”

“What she like?” The heat from Trixie’s coffee cup had dissipated considerably, enough for her to finally part with it. She set it beside Katya’s, adjusting it so the two mugs mirrored one another.

“Like a mom,” Katya smoothed the wrinkles in her shirt. “She used to work here with Ru, used to help write the queue and — well, Bianca’s job without the title,” Katya wheezed. Trixie hummed considerably, already missing the weight of her coffee cup, or her guitar. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she leaned forward and took Katya’s in hers. Katya smiled back at Trixie, letting her do as she pleased with her thin wrists and crooked fingers. Trixie fiddled with that purple bracelet again, her nail catching on an eye charm, nearly knocking it loose from the sloppy glue-job Katya had applied. “She’s super understanding and caring when she’s not being a complete hard-ass.” 

Trixie hummed again, this time in approval. Katya clasped Trixie’s hand in hers, abruptly, gently lacing their fingers together to stop her idle fingers. She was brimming with laughter. “If you don’t stop, you’re gonna break my bracelet and my fingers, Tracy. And you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

“Trixie,” she replied with a giggle. “Sorry, I’m a little out of it today,”

“Yeah, you look like garbage,” Katya cackled when Trixie’s arm came in contact with her chest.

The dressing room door swung open with that same thunk, this time with less force. “Good morning, ladies” A short, curvy woman stood in the doorway. She had a cool air about her, and Trixie thought that she could probably command the whole city of Boston if she wanted. A staple of a performer, for sure. Her long black hair was tied off in a high ponytail and— well, based om Katya’s description of her chest, this was probably Michelle. Katya sprang from her seat, leaving Trixie and her hands to fall at her lap. She embraced the woman for a long time, giggling into her shoulder. Michelle’s cool air relaxed, an aura of warmth, motherhood befell her. It was comforting to Trixie.

“Michelle!” she exclaimed pleasantly, excitedly. “It’s so nice to see you again,” Katya sighed after they had parted. “I’m surprised you’re not with Mama Ru?”

“I just left his office, he said the cast… should be in here, by now,” Michelle cocked her brow before leaning around Katya. “But I see you fuckers are late and irresponsible,” Trixie caught her gaze and smiled awkwardly. “You must be Trixie?”

“Oh, yeah!” Katya leaned over to Trixie and tugged her up from her seat, shocking how such a small girl could pull Trixie to her feet with such a simple tug. “Michelle, Trixie; Trixie, Michelle,”

Trixie smiled, a little brighter now. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Michelle!”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Miss Mattel!” she responded. “Ru told me Rocky Horror was your idea? It’s a classic, are you sure you messes can pull this shit off?”

Trixie chuckled briefly. “I have faith… in myself anyway,” Trixie gave Katya a side-glance, which sent the Russian into fits of uncontrollable laughter. She sensed the peace from their moment alone evaporate, and she was mildly okay with that. “Thank you for stepping in, Katya’s been rambling about your productions, your experience—”

“I don’t ramble!” Katya whined indignantly.

“Katya—” Michelle began.

“We’ll be talking about the queue and somehow you’ll circle to Contact and race-relations in America,” Trixie quipped briefly. Michelle laughed, a booming cackle that bounced off the walls of their dressing room.

“Oh! She’s still on that Contact bullshit?”

“It’s not bullsh—”

“I don’t know HOW I’ve avoided watching it with her!” Trixie relented. “Every conver—”

Katya waved her hands wildly. “I don’t think it’s a particularly wonderful, A+ movie, but… but Jodie Foster is exhibiting a wonderful, positive, interesting, complex layered femininity and I love it,” Katya explained, a tinge of a grin on her lips. “Is that good?”

“It was unsolicited,” Trixie pressed her lips together, allowing Katya to clutch onto her through her laughter.

Michelle laughed, booming and wild. “I can’t argue with that,”

“McDonald’s breakfast isn’t fucking healthy, Alaska, why—” Violet’s voice was ringing from behind the back entrance to the dressing room. She sounded hyper, angry, and Trixie could sense she was just going to be so much fun. The door swung open and Alaska was nibbling on a hash brown.

“It’s gotta be good for something! It’s gonna give me all kinds of energy— Michelle!!” Alaska waved the hash brown in greeting before ducking to his vanity and setting the meal down. Trixie suppressed the giggle that bubbled in her chest. 

“Hey, Michelle!” Violet gave a brief smile. “Morning, Katya! Morning, Trixie!”

“I already know about the fit you threw when Ru said he was going to bring me in, so don’t pretend like you’re happy to see me, Violet,” Michelle responded. 

“I… panicked,” she admitted sheepishly. “It’s fine, I’m over it,”

“Well, I‘m glad you’re over it. We have a long road, and I don’t need the past to be trudged up

As Michelle began her reprimanding, Trixie phased out. She watched as the peace that was once present this morning slipped into a wild commotion as the cast began to shuffle in. Aja, Chi Chi and Kim bustled into the room, exclaiming wildly at the sight of Michelle, but Trixie didn’t even try to make out any of their words. She took to her seat again, trying to avoid standing in the way of their joyous reunion. 

It was far too easy for her to get lost in her thoughts on mornings when she was this tired. Her eyes flicked over to Katya, who was discussing something quietly with Violet, their heads bowed together. She looked more serious than Trixie had ever seen before. She was wondering, suddenly, what could they be talking about. She tore her eyes away from the scene and leaned over to grab her guitar again, settling the weight back on her thighs. If she wasn’t going to interact, she at least needed to look like she had a reason why. She plucked at a couple of strings, but mostly she watched the room around her. 

She watched her family. Half the room was laughing at something Michelle had said, something Trixie didn’t hear, but she grinned anyway. She wasn’t really involved, she didn’t know Michelle, but the room was so warm, so inviting that she hardly felt like an outsider looking in. Katya gave Violet’s hip a squeeze, Trixie only saw it in her peripheral, but still. She saw Violet blush and linger her fingers over Katya’s. What the fuck was that about? She had little time to ponder the question before Katya was strutting right back over to her, her face cool, happy.

“What did Violet want?”

Katya dismissed the question with a wave of her hand and then tousled Trixie’s blonde’s curls, childishly. “She wanted to talk about some old, personal stuff,”

“Like?”

“Uh,” Katya rubbed the back of her neck. “Us?”

“Us?”

“Yeah, apparently Alaska told her that she overheard us talking about our relationship the other night,”

“Oh,” Trixie grimaced. “Katya, should I talk to her? I don’t have anything against her or—" Trixie panicked, just a little. The last thing she wanted was to be the cause of any drama between Katya and Violet.  


“No!” Katya shook her head, “she knows, let’s just… let that go, yeah?”

“Okay?” She most certainly wasn’t going to let that go.

The group was interrupted by the sound of Ru’s large hands clapping out a rhythm. Simple, but effective. The cast’s attention turned inward, towards him and Michelle.  
“Well, I’m here, you all know what that means!” Michelle grinned lopsidedly. The cast whooped, hollered a little, and Katya sat on her makeup counter to listen. “It means it’s time to crack-the-fuck-down. You can have your little parties, but we have only a few weeks to pull your messy-asses into well-fueled performance,” Michelle crossed her arms. “The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a cult classic, it’s well-known, and everyone is going to have expectations.”

“Our fucking performance is going to be like the thousands of orgasms I gave some girl from last night,” Katya spoke with a nod. The group reacted in a mix of disgust and humor.

Violet laughed, louder than everyone else. “Some girl? You don’t have to pretend we all know it was Tri—” 

“Michelle, you were saying?” RuPaul’s voice cut Violet off.

“Anyway,” Michelle began with a little huff. “I’m not holding auditions, I don’t have time to go through my casting routine, so instead, I’ll be deciding on your roles based on rehearsal today and your show tonight,” she shrugged. “I know it isn’t exactly fair, but Ru’s going to help me, especially since I don’t know the new girl so well,” she flashed a kind smile over to Trixie. “ your A-game today because I’m not giving second-fucking-chances.”

✘✘✘

Trixie was on the floor of the house now. Several hours of rehearsal had passed, and Trixie spent her free time between acts fiddling, again, with her guitar. She sat against the bar while Chi Chi was polishing several different glasses and laying them in patterns across the shelves. She kept getting distracted by the clink against the surface. She had been distracted all morning, distracted by Katya’s talk with Violet, distracted by Michelle’s announcement. She hated how her day had gone from calm and peaceful to hectic and anxiety-ridden. She wanted to do well for Michelle, wanted to prove she could handle a huge role, a huge responsibility like playing Janet Weiss. She wanted to know what Violet was P U T T I N G into Katya’s head I do not care and she wanted Chi Chi to stop putting the glasses down so fucking violently so she could play her damn guitar.

“Fucking focus Violet! You keep missing that last shimmy, Jesus fuck,” Bianca rolled her eyes as she clapped on the beat. “It’s back step, front step, shimmy, shimmy, shimmy!”

“I’m trying!” Violet hissed back. “I know what the Goddamn choreography is, okay? Jesus.” Violet rubbed her face as if she’s was trying to scrub away the frustration.”Let’s run it again,”

“It doesn’t bode well to argue with your director,” Bianca tossed a side-glance towards Michelle, and Trixie lofted her brows curiously at the commotion. Her eyes fell on the black-haired woman. She looked like such a leader, a matriarch watching with dark eyes and a soft smile. Violet sneered at Bianca before falling back in line with Kim and Alaska. They’d been working on a trio, musical theatre piece for two hours. Trixie could feel the frustration radiating off Bianca, and the impatience in her gaze was palpable. 

“...I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “Can we run it one more time? I’ll get it,” 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Katya slid into the seat beside Trixie, causing her to tear her eyes away from the scene.

“Hm? What’s up?” She moved her guitar aside so it wouldn’t hinder Katya from pressing in close, the way they usually sat nowadays.

“Do you think I was exaggerating when I said I thought Violet kept guilt-tripping me?” she lowered her voice, but Trixie found it pointless. Violet was too busy getting her ass chewed to hear them. She pondered the question before replying.

“Thought we were dropping it?”

Katya huffed through her nose indignantly, and Trixie flashed a cheeky grin.

“No, she’s a cunt,” Katya cackled, earning them both a silent glare from Bianca. She seemed to consider her answer before she slumped into Trixie’s side. “Why? Did she call you out in the dressing room earlier?”

“Yeah,” she ran a hand through her hair. “Well, she just wanted to talk to me about it, it’s not a big deal.” She took Trixie’s hand and began twisting the rings around her fingers, absent-mindedly. “I wanted to tell you, but she was in there, and I didn’t want to make things—” Katya gestured wildly, but vaguely. “I don’t know, you know, right? You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” she smiled fondly at Katya, “are you nervous about Rocky Horror?” Trixie didn’t want to discuss Violet anymore than she was forced to, so she swiftly changed the subject to the other topic weighing on her mind.

“Not nervous, I wish we had time for auditions, but,” she shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal, Michelle knows how to cast everyone— well, everyone but you,” Katya laughed a little. “You’re gonna have a hard rehearsal, I’m sure she asked Bianca to put you through it.”

Oh, Michelle absolutely asked her to put Trixie through it. When Bianca had finished with the Trio of Disaster™, she had Trixie come to the stage. They started off with a soundcheck, a quick run with a few songs on her guitar. It was no different than her usual rehearsals. Bianca would stop her, ask her to repeat lines, turn the mic up and down, sometimes Ron would cue lights with her songs. That was all normal. And Trixie never minded that. But after? She barked at Trixie for her tap-shoes, to ready herself to run her number. Ru had asked her, just a week or so ago, to choreograph a tap number. Something about ‘adding versatility to the queue’. She didn’t mind, she had her number ready in a few short days. But no one had asked her about it since, not until today. She made Trixie run through her piece seven times, consecutively. Bianca was shouting from back at the house, to: ‘make it bigger!’, ‘this is the theatre!’, ‘pretty doesn’t just get you through here, fucking work, Mattel!’

Any other day, any-other-fucking-day, Trixie would snap at Bianca. Bark something vicious, insulting at her stage manager while the sweat poured down her face… but Michelle was watching with interest. Every time Trixie would find an insult rising like bile in her throat, she’d choke it back with just a quick look at Michelle. Michelle, who was scribbling notes and mumbling with Ru about her performance, her work-ethic, her determination. Whatever she was saying, Trixie prayed to a God she never believed in, prayed that it was completely positive. 

Trixie could feel her sweat-drenched clothes clinging to her back, knew her face was flushed under the white lights. She wondered if she’d collapse from heat-stroke in the middle of her number, just under the torridity of their spots. Even then, she knew Bianca would force one more run out of her. Each time she heard the beginning of her track play, she heard a few of her castmates snicker. They all knew what Bianca, what Ru and Michelle were putting her through, and one of them even had the gall to shout something about her being a ‘rookie’. She was sure it was Violet, but she always thought it was Violet.

“I don’t like that move, at the end?” Bianca called from the house. “Change it, something bigger, better,”

“Bigger?” Trixie placed her hands on hips and huffed.

“Bigger.”

They ran the number again. And again. And… again. Finally, Bianca dismissed Trixie, told her to remove her tap shoes. Trixie hummed in relief, but Bianca heard it, she knew she did.

“But—” she began. “I want to practice the improv you have with Katya and Ginger,” Bianca said coolly, gesturing for the two others to get up. Katya looked sympathetic as she approached the stage.

“Bianca, may I please get a drink of water?” She tried to push the anger from her voice, exaggerating, as if she worked in customer service. A bead of sweat streaked down from her temple and she flicked away irritably.

“No, we’re running the skit first,” she said nonchalantly. “Ron, set the lights, please,”  
Trixie almost let out a groan of frustration, but she clenched her jaw instead, helping Ginger haul a chair, center-stage for their set.

“You look like hell, like you’re about to commit murder,” Ginger spoke, less-than-quietly. She shook her head, afraid if she responded, she’d find herself in trouble.

Katya reached a hand to Trixie’s shoulder and squeezed. “Bianca, she looks kind of flushed,” she began, winking for only her to see. “Seriously, I think she needs it,”

Bianca groaned. “She’s white. Her skin flushes like a fucking toilet,”

“Yeah, but if she were Adore, you’d have her head in your lap— face up, in this scenario,” Katya turned from examining Trixie to Bianca, whose head was cocked. Trixie could physically see her mulling over her next words. “I mean, you’d be bottle-feeding that water to Adore, so—" The cast, scattered about the house, made side-comments, biting playfully at Bianca’s faltering insistence.

“Five minutes,” Bianca relented. “Five minutes while I run Aja’s lip-sync. And—” her eyes surveyed the house. “The rest of you could be working on your own Goddamn shit in other places! You don’t have to sit and watch!”

Trixie just about wrapped her arms around Katya, just about kissed the Russian Goddess who saved her ass from heat-stroke. As she climbed off the stage, Katya swiftly took her hand and helped her down.

“I wasn’t kidding,” Katya said with a laugh, her expression concerned. “Have you eaten today? It’s… almost noon and you can’t rehearse like that on an empty stomach.”

Trixie shrugged. Now that she was on the ground, in the slightly-less-warm air of the club, she did feel a little light-headed. Her stomach rumbled at Katya’s mention of food and she did feel a little sheepish. She guided Trixie to an open barstool where Chi Chi had already set a glass of water out for her. “She’s watching your stamina, seeing how long it takes to break you,” she continued. “Michelle can get harsh with critiques, and she doesn’t need any of us crying with only two weeks of rehearsal,”

“Remember when she sent Adore into freak-out mode?” Chi Chi mused. “She threatened to quit, Trixie!” Katya was rubbing soft circles on Trixie’s lower back as they spoke over Aja’s music. She gulped down nearly half her water in one go, humming in acknowledgment to Chi Chi.

“Adore’s pretty sensitive, and Michelle went in hard on all of us, that first day,” Katya shrugged.

“Who’s Adore again?” she quipped, trying to distract from the starvation she left herself victim to.

Katya hummed. “Bianca’s… well, basically her girlfriend. The girl you replaced.”

“The one with the record deal,” Trixie nodded. “She’s dating Bianca?”

“It’s… complicated. They’re long-distance, and Adore’s busy touring in smaller towns to get out there,” Chi Chi informed. “Selling her music, selling her name—”

“Selling her ass,” Katya interjected, taking a sip of her water. Chi Chi smacked her with his towel, which sent Katya into her booming laughter. “’m kidding! Adore’s great!” She set Trixie’s cup on the counter. “You’ll meet her at the cast Christmas party, I think you two are about the same age.”

“You’ll like her. A bit of an air-head, sometimes, but— she’s Adore,” Chi Chi smiled fondly at the thought.

“She’s Adore-able,” Katya bit into her fist to keep her laughter from spilling over. Both Trixie and Chi Chi groaned. “Anyway,” her laughter caused her to tumble over the word. “Feeling better, mama?”

She smiled gratefully at Katya. “Yeah, what do I owe you for getting me out of that?”

“Sleepover tonight? You can be my trick, except we don’t have to kiss and never speak to each other again. Oh, and Contact, you fucking cunt.”

“Fuck me,” Trixie laid her head on the bar.

“That too.”

✘✘✘

The harsh smell of car exhaust flooded Trixie’s nostrils, overpowering the bitter chill of Boston in October. Bianca had dismissed her and Katya for a brief meal break after improv rehearsal, and she had been ushered out of the house by her best friend. She continually mumbled about how coffee wasn’t nearly good enough to get through a day of rehearsal, and when Trixie turned the conversation on Katya’s own meal habits, well… she fell silent. But it didn’t last, Katya was dragging Trixie to some café at the end of the street, babbling animatedly about an article she read about the president and how that tied into some conspiracy theory she had about his election… but Trixie was barely getting the gist of it. Barely listening to everything Katya had rambled on about, and instead chose to focus on the cold seeping through her jacket, everywhere but the spot on her back, on which Katya’s hand was resting.

They both placed their orders in a small counter at the back of an old, crumbling building. Trixie thought the place was shady as fuck, but the frittata she ordered looked well enough. And she trusted Katya’s judgment for the most part, anyway. They ate briefly over a table tucked privately in the back, Trixie toggling between listening to Katya speak and scraping crumbs off her plate.

“What do you mean ‘let’s get smashed’? Katya, you don’t even drink!”

“I don’t drink often! Special occasion, I might have a sip or two. Michelle is in town, so it’s a special fucking occasion!”

Trixie laughed, loud at that. “Yeah, okay, so how this is gonna go is you’re gonna let me get completely plastered, while you remain clear-headed, concise, and record every dumbass thing I do.”

“It’s all a part of my plan to get you in my bed this evening,” Katya gave Trixie shoulder a little nudge.

“I’m not that big of a dumbass.”

“Look me in the eye and say that again.”

Trixie shrieked indignantly, nearly shoving Katya off the stool she was currently occupying. She watched as Katya wobbled nervously on the edge, but used Trixie’s arm to tug herself upright, laughing as she did. They were clutching each other now, just coming off the high of their laughter, of their enjoyment of one another. Trixie didn’t let go of her arm, and Katya didn’t let go of Trixie’s. She could feel the pads of Katya’s calloused fingers digging gently into her forearms, the bite of her painted fingernails into Trixie’s freckled skin. She glanced briefly around the restaurant, making sure no one was creeping on them and making any kind of judgment based on one of many moments of their intimacy. 

“Trixie,” Katya’s voice interrupted their laughter, a serious edge to the way her name was spoken. “I’m not going to let anyone judge you,” she continued without acknowledgment. “I know, believe me, I know what you feel like. When I grab your hand in public, or how afraid you are if we hug a little too long.”

Trixie gave a noncommittal noise, her smile faltering. She had grown used to avoiding the stirring of panic bubbling deep in her stomach, trying instead to focus on how good she felt around her best friend. How Katya’s hugs made her feel comforted, how her fingers in her hair relaxed her from her shoulders to her toes.

“Believe me, no one is paying attention, no one cares, whether you are actually gay or not.”

Trixie pried her hands away from Katya’s, faster than she meant it. She watched as her best friend slowly settled back on her stool.

“I’m not.”

“I know that. But they don’t and believe me, Boston doesn’t really care— well, mostly,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s not perfect.”

“Kat—”

“Listen, I just want you to be comfortable. And I can’t help but notice the way you tense up sometimes. Or the way you hesitate when I sit real close, and— Trixie, I don’t care how it makes me look—”

“Obviously.”

Katya continued with a small smile. “But you care, I know that. I get it—”

“Do you…?” The words left Trixie’s lips faster than she could choke them down, faster than she could think them through, and they left Katya looking a little shocked, a little aghast. This turned far more serious than she wanted, turned into a conversation they both probably needed to have.

“…I think so,” she answered softly.

“Katya,” Trixie heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to be labeled and put into a little box, and on the shelf, you know? It’s scary, it’s scary to think that someone’s gonna take one look at me, and take one thing about me and decide that that’s where I belong. Decide that I need to be treated a certain way because of it… I love… holding your hand. I love hugging you, and laughing with you, and sitting in each other’s laps,” she looked into her empty plate. “I don’t want that to stop, I just want… I want— I want to— I don’t know what I want,” she huffed. “It’s stupid, and weird, and—”

“It’s not. It’s not at all. There are… hundreds, thousands, of people out there who feel the same way you do, ” Katya cocked her head. “Trixie, it’s not just you. There’s some poor sap in Missouri, or Florida, or Pennsylvania, or, hell, Boston!” she laughed, but it was brief. “It’s not stupid. Trixie, it’s not weird. Growing up around all that prejudice, around prying eyes, it… it does things,” She considered Katya for a moment, reaching a hand out to her. “My parents are great! Don’t get me wrong, but… Ginger’s told me stories, Chi Chi too.”

“I appreciate the insight, Kat,” Trixie made her attempt at dismissing the conversation by grabbing her plate and setting it on top of the waste bin, Katya’s too.

“You should know that just because someone insists on labeling you as something, it doesn’t mean that you have to accept it as your truth,” Katya’s fingers were on her lower back as they gathered their things to leave. “All that matters is your truth, and no one else can take that away from you, mama.”

The walk back into the club was met with silence. Almost silence, anyway. Trixie didn’t know how to continue, didn’t really want to. She mulled over Katya’s patient words, the lesson, she realized, Katya was trying to teach her. She had seven years of life experience ahead of Trixie. Seven years of understanding her attraction, of drug-use, of Russian culture, and of a loving, adoring family (both blood and not). Trixie supposed that, maybe, she could listen. Could take Katya’s words to heart… eventually. Surely, Katya realized that there was so much more to this than just accepting herself as whatever she was… and… wait, when did she start questioning what she was? She was straight. Completely. Right? 

 

Trixie was suddenly feeling flushed, hot, a pit of sickness in her stomach that she really wanted to blame it on the frittata. If she wasn’t straight, what the fuck was she?

Nothing. Straight. She was straight. She was just having a hard day, and what was early adulthood without having some kind of existential-self-questioning in the midst of one bad day? She was in slight crisis mode, that much she knew. The only thing keep her head afloat was Katya’s soothing fingers rubbing along the expanse of her lower back. 

‘You go on inside,” Katya spoke softly, pulling her cigarettes and lighter from her bra. “I need a puff before I have to look Bianca in the face again,” her tone was teasing, light, like earlier. She smiled briefly before tugging open the front door, just as Katya huffed the first bit of smoke between her lips. It was loud, Ginger singing a slow ballad, and she was careful about shutting the door behind her. It closed with a gentle thud, and a suction of air where it sealed in its frame, and Trixie leaned against the wall beside it, watching Ginger sing.

He had a presence only a true performer could muster, and she admired that. He was successful, confident in who he was, in his abilities… Trixie’s mind circled back to the comment Katya had made about Ginger’s ‘stories’. Ginger always said how hard he worked to be where he is, how hard he worked for his auditions and his dream. She never doubted that, not once. She’d seen it in him, hell, they’d worked hard together for several performances. Ginger always asked the questions, always clarified, and tried new things, he was the performer every performer hoped to be… and knowing he struggled, maybe even in the same way Trixie had, comforted her in some odd way. He wasn’t much older than her, only five years. Maybe in five years, she’d be as comfortable with herself, as strong as Ginger was.

✘✘✘

Trixie’s inability to focus prevailed into showtime that evening, her head never cleared from the early morning grogginess, and her conversation with Katya sent her into a whole other kind of frenzy. Not to mention, the weight of Rocky Horror was resting on her delicate, freckled shoulders, and she couldn’t imagine a worse day to feel so… off. Even if she woke unfocused, Trixie felt that her day had started off so well. She shared a coffee with Katya, laughed with her, the overwhelming sense of inadequacy gone without a trace. It had such potential. Although, she couldn’t say it was a necessarily bad day, either. Her irritation from rehearsal had let up rather quickly as she delved into her pre-show rituals (a few vocal exercises and downing one shot with Kim in the wings). The commotion of the audience in the house was distracting. Between acts, she’d get lost in their sound, trying to pinpoint any familiar laughter, or trying to count the seconds it lasted after someone dropped a joke. She was counting them out, now, finger by finger.

“Mattel!” Bianca snarled in a whisper. “You’re supposed to be on stage!”

Trixie’s gaze caught Alaska’s pattering moccasins across the black stage, and she scrambled violently to her feet, nearly twisting her ankle in the heels she swiped from the costume box. She grabbed her guitar from its stand and slipped the strap over her head as she stepped beneath the beating lights. Memories from rehearsal flooded her head, and she suppressed a groan. A few audience members, men, hollered at the sight of her.

“This isn’t about you!” she snapped into the mic. The audience laughed, and she was almost sure she could hear Michelle over the roar. “Hi, I’m Trixie Mattel, I’m nineteen years old, and I’m scared shitless of bees. Here’s a song about a shallow bitch who couldn’t see the man that boy could be,” The audience laughed, hollered her name, and she shook her head.  
As she began to strum the first few chords, the crowd began to clap, holler at the familiar chord progression. A grin painted its way onto Trixie’s heavily made-up face, and she leaned into the mic.

_”He was a boy,_  
_she was a girl_  
_Can I make it any more obvious?”_

A few drunk girls screamed loud enough that it made Trixie stumble over her strumming, she laughed into the mic as she regained her bearings. She continued through, the yellow lights fading into a hot pink, and she glanced knowingly back at the booth to Ron. She loved this song, it brought her back to her ‘punk’ days, sophomore year after all the shit with Shea hit the fan. Shallow girls, Wisconsin boys who never noticed her. Never tried to see who she really was.  
Their loss.

_“He was a punk,_  
_She did ballet,_  
_What more can I say?_

_He wanted her_  
_She'd never tell_  
_Secretly she wanted him as well…”_

She glanced to the wings to find Katya watching, singing along with vigor and enthusiasm. Trixie winked.  
The crowd had fallen in tune with Trixie, drunkenly shouting the words along with her and waving their hands up. Every night, she was reminded of why she absolutely loved performing, loved every second of every song she played, every chord she strummed, every bead of sweat that rolled down her face under the hot-lights. Sure, the craft had its hard days (like today), rigorous rehearsals, irritating directors and managers, but this was it. This was the very thing that made it all worth it.

_“He was a skater boy,”_  
_She said see you later boy,_  
_He wasn't good enough for her!_

_She had a pretty face,_  
_But her head was up in space,_  
_She needed to come back down to earth…”_

Trixie caught the eye of Michelle, who was bobbing along to her enthusiastic performance. Good sign, right? She strummed a little harder, played a little better, and sang a little louder. She felt free, worry left in the wings as the audience bopped to the music, screaming the words at various notes. The verses came in waves, many in the audience jumbling the order, and she wanted to laugh at them. She wanted to slip down into the house and sing the wrong words, take a sip of someone’s ice, cold beer and play until the alcohol and the music had her buzzed, high.

_“Sorry girl but you missed out,_  
_Well tough luck that boy's mine now,_  
_We are more than just good friends,_  
_This is how the story ends…”_  
_“…Too bad that you couldn't see,_  
_See the man that boy could be,_  
_There is more that meets the eye,_  
_I see the soul that is inside…”_

Trixie slowed down a bit, singing far gentler as she progressed through the verse, and picking up with the chorus. She felt the room hang on her every note, and there was a brief thought of smashing her guitar for a finale, but that was quickly dashed as the stupidest idea she’s ever fucking thought of.

_“…I'm with the skater boy, I said "see you later, boy",_  
_I'll be backstage after the show,_  
_I'll be at a studio, singing the song we wrote,_  
_About a girl you used to know!”_

Trixie drew the last note out, long and fading. The crowd hollered, she saw a few bills fly onto the edge of the stage, and she laughed. Working here sometimes made her feel like a stripper.  
She took her guitar off and slouched to pick up the few bills off the stage, giving the audience her brief words of thanks and exiting into the wings.

“You did good today, kid.”

Trixie looked up from stuffing the bills of the neckline of her dress, Bianca was fumbling over her setlist.

“Sorry,” Trixie whispered. “What was that?”

Bianca pursed her lips, huffing before she elected to speak again. “I said you did good, Trixie.” She gave the older woman a devilish grin.

“Yeah, I know,” She sighed dreamily. Bianca made a noise of disgust, but the corners of her mouth were turned upwards. “Really! I think it was great, B, I think I might get the part I want!” Violet breezed past Trixie, knocking her shoulder (purposefully??), as Ru called out her name. Trixie scowled in her direction, despite her mood not being changed at all. Nothing was going to kill the joy, the unfocused joy she was in today. She strutted confidently through the stage door and down the black corridor, her guitar clenched tightly in one hand. She slipped into the dressing room where Kim, Alaska, Ginger, and Katya were in various states of undress. Katya was bending over the mirror, plucking a few hairs from her eyebrows.

“Another date tonight?” she teased, lining her guitar into its stand.

Katya grinned in the mirror, her eyes focused in on the little blonde hairs. “With you, yeah,”

“Is Violet closing for you tonight?” she found the plethora of makeup wipes she shared with Katya and began scrubbing the residue from her face and neck. Her lips were stained a little pink, and her eyes were rimmed with a bit of black from her mascara.

“Yeah, she wanted to make a last-minute impression on Michelle, so I traded her my spot,” Katya peeled her bodysuit off and she rolled her eyes as her tits spilled out of the black fabric.

“Jesus, wear a damn bra,” Ginger quipped harshly. “No one needs IBTC up in here,”

Aja looked up from his contour palette. “IBTC?”

“Itty Bitty Titty Committee,” Trixie said with a laugh. “My friend Pearl is a proud member,”

“You’re certainly not,” Katya licked her lips and tugged her tee-shirt over her head. Trixie crossed her arms over her chest, a sheepish grin on her lips. “I’m proud of my baby titties! They make me happy, and they don’t weigh me down.” 

The rest of the group mumbled noncommittal responses while finishing with their makeup and costume removal. Trixie sat at her vanity, scrubbing the rest of the makeup from her face with her eight-hundredth wipe. She hated being so wasteful, but she had finally found a look she liked on herself. A sharp, dark contour, thick eyeliner, overdrawn lips. She thought she looked hot, and no one complained, even if it was an insane amount of product. There was a guilty sort of joy that came out of wiping the lines away after each show, Trixie liked to take it slow. She liked to blur the lines of her face and the drawn ones. Katya watched from behind with a pleasant sort of bliss to her face.

“What’re you staring at?” she laughed in the mirror, wiping the last bit of foundation from her jaw.

“Nothing, mama, just zoning out,” she gave Trixie’s shoulder a lingering squeeze. “You look really pretty tonight.”

“I just wiped off my face, why didn’t you say that before?” Trixie sputtered a laugh and began peeling out of her dress.

“Because I’m talking about without the makeup.”

“Oh,” Trixie smiled. “Thanks! My skin finally cleared up, and I think the sweaty-rehearsal look works for me,” She took her leggings off the vanity and tugged them over her legs, up her butt and hips. Katya watched with interest, huffing a laugh at her self-deprecation. 

“You can shower at my place if you wanna?” she offered. “I don’t have your fancy soaps—”

“Do you own soap?” Katya screeched, her hand resting on Trixie’s arm.

“Yes! I smell like a Goddamn bed of roses, mama!”

“Tell yourself that,”

“Good evening, kitties,” Michelle praised softly. Violet gently squeezed into the room past her, scampering to her vanity. The room quieted in an instant, and Michelle found herself standing in the center of it. She was smiling, chest puffed out proudly, and Trixie hoped she could command a room as gracefully and powerfully as her one day. Katya gave Trixie’s hand an anxious squeeze. “I know none of you care how my day was, so I’m going to cut to the chase,” She held up a clipboard. “This is my finalized cast list, are you ready?” There was a mumble of consensus amongst the group. It was silent, still, and Trixie shifted her eyes to Bianca, who she hadn’t even noticed. Ru was at her side, conveying his pride, even across the room. 

“Before I start, I have to give a bit of praise. I was really impressed with… most of you. I asked Bianca to really throw some of you through a loop, and know I do that out of utter love,” she grinned briefly at Trixie. “Yeah. Okay, here we go,”

Trixie felt all the muscles in her stomach tighten as she clutched onto Katya’s hand. Kim found her way to Trixie’s side, taking her free hand. She felt like she was in high school, competing against Pearl for the parts she never got. Trixie knew Kim had been pining for Janet, just as she was. And she couldn’t say she wouldn’t be disappointed if she lost it.

“Katya, you will be playing Frank’n’Furter,” She released a screech of excitement, and the happiness Trixie felt for her best friend was overwhelming. She was kicking her legs against the vanity, locked in that silent laugh as the rest of the room celebrated with her. “Alaska, Riff Raff,” Alaska made a peace sign with his hand and promptly thanked Michelle for the part. “Chi Chi, we decided to give you Eddie—” Michelle began. “I know you haven’t really—” she sighed. “We don’t have enough people and I know you have a small performance background. It’s alright if you decline, it's just that Ru and I—”

“Decline???” Chi Chi’s voice, when he finally found it, was a few octaves too high. “Are you kidding me?? I’d love to! I’d really, really love to!” he grabbed Aja’s hands and hopped excitedly. “Thank you so fucking much!”

Michelle laughed pleasantly. “Thank Ru, it was his idea,” she dismissed him with her hand. “Oh, Aja, you’ll be playing Rocky,” Aja clapped loudly and brought Chi Chi in for a passionate kiss. There was a bit of nasty banter tossed at the couple, but everyone was happy for them, genuinely. As Michelle moved down the list, Trixie couldn’t focus. She knew they were inching towards her name, inching towards her fate for the next few weeks. Trixie had a bad feeling.

“Violet, I cast you as Magenta,” Michelle said simply. Violet grinned brightly and her gratitude towards Michelle was genuine.

“Ginger, you’ll be playing Brad,”

Kim reached across to Katya and smacked her arm. “I fucking told you!” Katya rolled her eyes and lazily batted back at Kim.

“Trixie, you’ll be tapping in Colombia’s shoes,” Michelle seemed rather proud of her delivery, but Trixie didn’t laugh. She smiled through the itch of disappointment. “Oh, thank you so much,” 

Trixie’s mouth was moving without her knowledge despite the fact that her tongue had completely dried out. She felt like she was burning, bitterness burned in her stomach, a bit of anger too. She was put through the ringer today, she let Bianca bitch at her all morning. Without a word, without even a hint of protest, and… and she got Colombia? 

 

Okay yes, she couldn’t argue. The casting made sense, she was the only tapper, she could probably manage a squeaky voice, and she usually had high-energy when performing. Michelle thought about this, she cherry-picked roles and did her job. She couldn’t argue with that logic, despite the bitterness that was boiling in her stomach. Katya’s fingers were on Trixie’s lower back, circling soothingly in the space between her leggings and cropped sweater. She didn’t want to see the comforting look Katya was sure to be giving her, and the hopeful one Kim had mustered. She was falling that one step behind again.

“And Kim, you will be Miss Janet Weiss. Congratulations, everyone! I expect to see you bright and early, tomorrow morning for our first read-through,”

Kim clapped her hands together, giggling gleefully. “Thank you! Thank you so much! Oh! Drinks on me guys, I’m celebrating!” The sound irritated Trixie, it made her stomach churn. 

The room fell into its usual banter, last minute goodnights, talk of the show, and now, Rocky Horror as well. Trixie wanted to leave. She slipped away from Katya, away from Kim and began to pack her bag and her guitar. She searched violently through her bag for her car keys.

Kim grabbed Trixie’s hip and pressed into her side, still bubbling. “You can ride with me,”

“I’m going home.” She gritted. “I had a hard day, and I don’t really feel like the whole party-scene,”

Kim faltered slightly. “Come on, Trix— just one bar! I want you there, I want to celebrate with you!”

“I can’t get into a bar, Kim. I don’t wanna go out anyway,”

“We could go to that restaurant a few blocks away!” Kim’s voice lifted significantly. “They serve drinks, and you could get—” 

Trixie hoisted her bag over her shoulder and jerked her body to face her friend. Kim was making this worse. It was making her worse. “I don’t want to go. At all. Not even a little bit.” She pushed past Kim, pushed past Katya for the door and disappeared around the corner. She tugged on her coat, wrapping it warmly around her shoulders as she made her way to the house and through the tables.

“Hey, pretty girl!” Ron’s soft voice rang over the loudspeaker. She could see his little, blonde head coiling cords and stacking them in crates. She maneuvered around a few janitors to meet him back the back of the house. “Audience fucking loved you tonight, that song was a hit!”

“Yeah,” she smiled briefly at the memory. “Need any help?” Trixie dropped her dance bag by her feet and leaned through the booth’s window, nearly knocking heads with him. His breath smelled strongly of alcohol, and Trixie wasn’t aware he drank during their shows.

“Nah,” He set the last of the wire aside and rounded the booth, meeting Trixie outside the window. “Katya around?” he slurred bluntly.

Trixie laughed a little at that. “Katya? Uh, no. She’s with Michelle,”

“Good,” he huffed out a laugh. She felt alarm bells ring, her face conveying distaste at his words. There was nothing wrong with Katya, damnit. “Oh— no, I love Katya, I just—” he rubbed his neck. “We can never talk when she’s around. She’s always cutting me off, always trying to get me away.”

“She’s protective,” Trixie shrugged. She had relaxed significantly at his explanation, after all, it was pretty reasonable. Who didn’t love Katya? “I’m heading out now, actually.” 

 

“Lemme walk you out?” Before Trixie could reply, he had tugged her bag off the floor of the house and held out a hand. She took it. He was a little wobbly, having to shift his weight with her dance-bag, and she giggled.

“You really held together in rehearsal today,” he offered. “I would’ve knocked Bianca’s lights out.”

Trixie laughed. “Michelle was there! I had to keep up that Barbie persona, you know? Not everyone can know I’m a raging bitch!”

He snorted. “Ah, yes, the biggest bitch on the planet. Little miss sunshine with the gorgeous brown eyes and curly-golden-locks! She’s a menace,” Trixie whined and gave his shoulder a hard punch. “Come on, the first time I saw you, all I saw was this gorgeous young blonde from Wisconsin. Her dirty boots, her high ponytail— you’re not the picture of scary, here, babe!” Trixie hummed, giggling a little at the nickname. He was definitely tipsy, definitely victim to whatever he downed. 

They walked from door to Trixie’s old pickup, parked parallel to the street a block or so from the club. It wasn’t a long walk, and it was quiet. There wasn’t any banter, just simple conversation about their day and Trixie realized if it had been Katya, she would’ve had her laughing the whole way. She took her dance bag from Ron’s hands and tossed it into the cab of her truck.

“Thanks for walking me,” she replied simply. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Definitely— gotta keep the most intimidating girl I know, in line!” he teased.

“Oh, fuck!” Trixie threw up her hands. “I’m intimidating! More intimidating than you!”

Ron laughed menacingly, and suddenly, his back was straightening out, one hand placed behind Trixie’s head, trapping her against the truck. He was demonstrating, she realized. He wanted to intimidate her, wanted to show her. “Yeah, I don’t think so,” Trixie swore his voice dropped a little lower. “You do look very pretty from this angle, I will say that,” The scent of alcohol brushed over her nose in hot, wet breaths and she did her best to not pull a face. She sucked in her breath, sharply. 

She was intimidated, a little nervous. She didn’t have the ability to move her hand, and she just wanted to grab the car door and pull it open, bid him goodnight. 

“Is… is this supposed to impress me, Rico Suave?” She wanted to fight, maybe, play his game so he’d pull off.

“Not at all,” His other hand came up and clutched Trixie’s jaw, pinching the soft bulb of her chin between two fingers. She didn’t want to pull away. They were just fooling, just joking, she didn’t need to turn this into something far too serious. He wasn’t, right? “Hoping this might, though.”

He kissed her. Ron’s mouth befell Trixie’s gracelessly, and he was cold from the October air. She could taste… tequila? Was it tequila? Who the fuck drinks tequila while working? She wasn’t entirely sure of what was actually happening. But she kissed back. She found a rhythm with him (and honestly, the movies made it seem like it’d be so much harder). She’d only known him a month, worked with him a few times, laughed with him a few times, and he was great. Certainly not her first choice to steal that oh so sacred first kiss, but it was too late now. Her stomach flipped. but she was too far gone. Past the threshold and the ability to say no. When did this turn from playing… to Ron’s hand’s pressing her back into her car, one of them grazing the exposed skin beneath her coat? She turned her head when she felt him pressing in, felt him moving closer.

“I’m… I’m gonna go,” she breathed. This wasn’t supposed to be how her first kiss would go. This wasn’t supposed to be how this would happen, with some drunk friend from work. It was empty, emotionless, drunk. He wobbled a little but stepped out of Trixie’s space without a word of resentment. 

“I’m… see you at rehearsal, yeah?” he drawled. She climbed into the front of her truck, digging for the keys in her bag. She responded something that sounded like a ‘yeah’, but she didn’t quite focus, didn’t even look until she saw him halfway down the sidewalk. She sat in her car, bile in her stomach, head in her hands, and the anger had returned.

She didn’t have time to be comfortable with the idea that all she wanted was Katya, wanted Katya to talk her through this, tell her it was gonna be okay, tell her that it was an accident, a game taken way too far. Her phone sputtered in her purse, the loud ringing echoing off the windows and leather interior. She tugged that out of her bag as well, flipped it open without so much of a glance.

“I thought kissing strangers was my thing, mama?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding the kiss at the end, I know Trixie says something along the lines of 'too late to say no' and I want to clarify that it's never too late to say no to something you're uncomfortable with. And your partner (or whoever) should NOT make you feel bad for doing so!!! That's very important, and I love you all! Be safe, have fun, and love yourselves! 
> 
> Don't forget to come visit me [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/) and my lovely beta [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)


	9. One Avril Lavigne Song and Two— I mean One— Lesbian(s) Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie tried not to think of the reality of Katya’s hard nipples brushing her back, causing her skin to prickle, instead choosing to press her cheek against Katya’s as they moved perfectly in sync with one another. Trixie’s hair was brushing against Katya’s skin, and she wanted to laugh at her expression every time she had to blow it out of her face. Katya’s hand had found Trixie’s waist, and she pulled Trixie’s back closer, close enough that Trixie could've dropped her head on Katya’s shoulder, if she so chose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::slides down an icy ramp:: Good evening,  
> Trixya Trash! Here it is! The fabled, the long-awaited chapter nine!!  
> I'm back home from visiting my theatre troupe for those of you who didn't know and am now trying to make actual life decisions.  
> Like, does one move in with their girlfriend that they've known exclusively online for five years? Probably not. Probably still will though!  
> I have a lot going on and God bless my beta because she has been getting earfuls of me for about two weeks now. Thank you [warlordkittens](https://warlordkittens.tumblr.com/) for being an actual wife. I love you so much! 
> 
> Send me asks, readers! Send me stuff anonymously! Even if it's a drabble idea, I will seriously write anything for you guys!  
> Thank you SO much for Kudos and Comments. They make my life so much better and keep'em coming!

_”I thought kissing strangers was my thing, mama?”_

This wasn’t happening. This literally couldn’t be fucking happening right now. Trixie wanted to throw up, she wanted to hit the gas in her truck and drive straight through the building in front of her.

“You there? It’s fucking cold out and I’m not leaving until you come spend the night,” Katya’s voice was light, teasing, but Trixie wasn’t feeling it.

She was angry and upset and tears were streaming down her bare cheeks. She wasn’t entirely sure which she was more upset about. The fact that her first kiss was an utter dumpster-fire, or the fact that Katya saw. She didn’t want to drain her energy on the latter, think about how it was probably because she and Katya had gotten into a tiff over Ron. Katya probably thinks Trixie likes him. Trixie doesn’t. She never did, and _why, God,_ she thought beating around the bush of her feelings was sensical, she will never, ever know.

Well, ‘cause she wanted to, she guessed.

She wanted to like him. She wanted to have that cute, romantic coupling that you only see in movies. She wanted to wrap her arms around a big, strong man in the rain and kiss him until her mascara ran. She’d hoped for her first kiss to be like the thrill of the last day of school, or the way one felt when they took their final bow. But instead, she got a sloppy, alcohol-laden, stomach-churning make out session with Ron.  
Not exactly the _Dear John_ moment she was hoping for.  
And Katya. Katya saw the whole thing. Trixie covered her face with her hands and leaned her head on the steering wheel. It was a feeble attempt at stopping the tears and calming herself, to take a few long breaths and be able to talk to Katya. Speaking of, how did she sound so chipper, so excited to be at Trixie over a measly kiss? Why wasn’t she upset? She always tried to block Ron, always tried to keep him away, but now she was chipper-fucking-Katya, happy to tease the fuck out of Trixie.

“Get out of your truck, you don’t need to fix that smudged lipstick, princess,” Katya was clearly grinning. “Come oooon, I wanna talk about it! Ronnie’s tongue down your throat, gripping your tit—”

Trixie snapped her phone shut and hauled ass out of the car. She wiped her red-rimmed eyes in the side-view mirror, hoping the dark would play to her favor. Maybe Katya wouldn’t see her eyes. She could see Katya across the street, running excitedly towards her, practically bouncing under the yellow street lights. She looked proud. Katya’s face was painted with a big, red grin, that slowly began to fall with every step closer to Trixie. “Trix, are you crying?” 

She couldn’t really lie now, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.

“No,” she sniveled. Her voice was faint, a little nasally from her sobs, and she mentally cursed herself. Katya’s face softened even further, her hands reaching out to take Trixie’s shoulders. Her first instinct was to jerk out of her touch, as if Katya was going to hurt her. But the weight of those hands felt all too familiar, and Trixie’s anger began to seep away. Before she knew it, Katya was tugging Trixie into her chest, her arms locking around Trixie’s waist. A gross, busted sob left Trixie’s lips as she wrapped herself into Katya’s embrace, tears and tremors finding their way into Katya’s touches.

“Trixie, what the hell is going on?” Katya’s voice was soft in way Trixie had yet to hear.

“I didn’t want it!” she lamented vaguely, her nails catching on the fabric of Katya’s sweater. “I didn’t know! I thought— I thought he was joking with me, Katya! I didn’t—”

Katya sighed, almost in relief, and tugged Trixie closer to her. “Hey, okay, mama. Take a deep breath,” she cooed, pressing her lips to Trixie’s sweaty temple. “I’m sorry, if I’d known I would’ve—”

“He was hammered and sloppy and wet, and he was _pinning_ me against the truck, and I felt like I couldn’t push him off or leave or do anything. I was scared, I didn’t even know how to handle it, God, I fucking hate him, I _hate_ him!” Trixie’s mind kept whirring over the memory, over and over she was reliving her time with Ron in her head. More tears sprang to her eyes, but she needed to get this out. She needed to let Katya know that she didn’t want this, that it wasn’t her fault. She needed her cards on the table, and Katya listened. Her was nose planted firmly in Trixie’s curls, her breath was tickling Trixie’s ear. “That was my first kiss, Katya,” she hiccupped finally, pulling back from the embrace just to look Katya in the eyes.

“First kisses are overrated,” Katya replied listlessly. “And I’m really sorry yours had to be like that,” Trixie’s eyes welled up again and Katya gave a sympathetic look before pulling Trixie right back into her arms. She tightened her grip on Trixie, gently running her fingernails over her shoulder blades and the nape of her neck.

“I’m pretty sure he was hammered,” Trixie repeated, her face now promptly buried in Katya’s shoulder. When she looked down, she saw Katya was in her stilettos, and silently thanked God for it. She loved when Katya was just a little bit taller than her.  
She didn’t respond to Trixie, not for a while, just held her, kissed her temple, her hairline, and even her cheek. Had it been anyone else, Trixie would’ve pulled back. The affection was so much, but it felt right with Katya. Like she was righting all the wrongs that have ever been done to Trixie. Or trying to, anyway.  
The cold began to bite into Trixie’s skin. She didn’t know how long they’d been standing there, but it was long enough for her to start shivering. Katya was wearing even less than Trixie’s leggings-sweater-coat ensemble, and she knew there was no way the Russian wasn’t freezing her ass off as well. She was in one of her long skirts, paired with a thin black sweater, and it was far too thin for mid-October. 

“Can I still stay with you tonight?” Trixie hiccupped, stepping out of Katya’s arms. The loss of heat was far too much, even under her coat.

Katya kept her hands on Trixie’s waist, only for a moment. “Of course, you can, mama. I cleared a spot on the bed for you,” That familiar Katya-grin had returned, and Trixie couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, you shoved all the shit on your bed to the floor?” Trixie teased, wiping her eyes.

Katya laughed, and Trixie swore it echoed across the alley walls behind them. “Hey, I don’t even do that shit for my tricks! Feel lucky!”

Trixie turned to her truck and hauled her large dance bag out of the front before locking the door. She held out an arm to Katya, allowing the older woman to guide her back to the club. She helped Trixie through the busted pavement of the back alley, used her copy of the key to wrench the door open. It was even darker inside. Someone had shut off all the lights to the back hallway, and Trixie wondered how Katya could even find her home in the darkness. But she did. In no time, she had the door open, and they were descending in even less light than the first time she saw the place. It didn’t matter, though; Katya was holding her hand, and she had the pattern of the steps memorized by now. She knew that the third step was a little loose, a little creaky, and the last step was higher than the others.

“Thank you,” Trixie said as she dropped her dance bag by the door. Her eyes burned from the copious amounts of crying. She felt dry, achy, greasy, but better than she did earlier. Better now that Katya had come and saved the day, even if that just meant some tears and a place to stay for the night.

“Don’t thank me,” Katya said softly. 

“You always make it better,” Trixie said without thinking. “Even when things are great, you make them better,” She rounded the couch and collapsed onto its expanse, spreading her legs over the cushions.

Katya smiled, but it was shy and thoughtful. “That’s really gay,” she said finally.

Trixie laughed, loud and wild, tucking her hands behind her head. “It was.”

“God, I love being a gay!” Katya bent down, gave Trixie’s forehead a kiss before hoisting herself over the couch’s back and landing on top of Trixie. She made a strangled ‘oh’ as Katya’s deadweight fell on top of her.

“No, no, I was gonna shower!” she whined from beneath her friend. “Seriously, it’s gonna take forever for me to get you off!” she shoved at Katya’s shoulder noncommittally.

“Mm, later,” Katya pressed her face in Trixie’s chest, sighing contentedly into her breasts.

“Oh, wow. Okay,” Trixie shifted beneath her. “I’m all gross and sweaty and you’re making me hot.”

“You’re always hot,”

“Katya!”

“Ugh,” Katya slipped into her Russian accent. “Why must you destroy my perfectly good slumber on some perfectly good titties, hah? Why can’t a lesbian enjoy a little bliss in her own home!” Katya peeled herself from Trixie’s chest, taking her sweet-time doing so.

“Sleep on my chest after my shower, you pervert,” Trixie pushed off the couch, stretched her shoulders and back, and stood.

“It’ll be returning the favor after you drooled on them at the sleepover,” Katya still spoke with her accent, a dark-grin on her lips.

“I did not _drool_ ,” Trixie scrunched up her face. “That’s disgusting.”

“Eh, I don’t mind a little ‘spit start’,” Katya’s grin was turning devilish.

“What?” Trixie had walked over to her bag and set it on the table by the door to rummage through the junk for some pajamas.

“It’s when you have to lube a girl up with your saliv—”

“No, no, no, Jesus, God, Hail Mary, Joseph, don’t fucking finish that sentence,” Trixie screeched. Katya yowled in laughter, doubling over at Trixie’s reaction. Trixie shook her head, but a hint of a smile played on her mouth.

“Yeah, don’t think about me fucking girls while you’re in the shower, okay?” Katya winked at Trixie. “My mouth all over their—”

Trixie launched her empty, pink water bottle at Katya’s head, the object nearly missing her. It was the first thing her hand grabbed to stop Katya’s speech. They were both laughing now. Honestly, Trixie wasn’t uncomfortable with the thought of sex. Even less so when it came to Katya. They’d discussed her hookups before, and Trixie wasn't a complete innocent. She’d masturbated, she’d heard graphic details from Pearl’s rendezvous with girls and guys in Milwaukee.

“You need to get laid, you’ll understand.”

‘Yeah, but who with?” Trixie laughed, her laugh faltering when she remembered Ron. When she remembered all the jokes the girls had made about the two of them— The humor had dissipated from the room, Katya had even straightened out. She bent over and retrieved Trixie’s bottle from the floor, walking across the room to hand it to her. Katya looked like she was suppressing one of her grins.

“I’m open to experimentation,” she wiggled her brows at Trixie. She groaned, shoving Katya’s shoulder as she marched past, clothes in hand, toward the restroom.

“In your dreams.”

“My wet ones.”

She’d been in Katya’s bathroom a hundred times before, but this time it looked as if Katya had cleaned up. The sink was shiny, the bit of makeup she kept on the vanity was somewhat organized, and the magazines she kept on the toilet were neatly stacked. She didn’t clean for her, Trixie assured herself. She tugged a brown towel from the cupboard and tossed it over the vanity and started her water. She needed a hot shower. Now that she was alone, now that even the sound of Katya’s television was drowned out, her mind wandered. She needed to scrub away the disappointment and disaster that today had steadfastly become. She reflected briefly on her morning with Katya. The quiet conversation over their daily coffee, the giggling and zoning out, and how that morning held such promise for Trixie’s day. And rehearsal, and lunch, and the show, and all of it came crashing down.  
She finished undressing and stepped under the hot-spray, her body jolting at the sudden heat. She used her hair-tie to pull her curls away from the water. No fucking way was she using Katya’s products on her hair, nope. Her eyes fell closed as the spray decorated her pale shoulders with red. She tried not to think of Ron. Her mind wandered to the sweet blonde, sitting just a door away, that same sweet blonde who was taking very good care of her. She’d said it before, she’ll say it again; she doesn’t deserve Katya. The day’s sweat washed from her skin and the scent of Katya’s body wash filled her nostrils, filled up the steamy bathroom. That smell reminded Trixie of the night they all spent in her room. She’d gotten deliriously lost in Katya’s scent due to the copious amounts of alcohol she had ingested. The feeling of Katya’s fingers in her hair and on her shoulders as she soothed Trixie to sleep, maybe they could replicate that tonight? She liked the way Katya made her feel. The mushy affection she’d get from even just a smile or a hug. They’d clicked fast, faster than any other friend she had. She could never part with Katya now. She made Trixie feel so good.  
Trixie’s mind fixated on the ‘experimentation’ comment, the one she’d brushed over before she stepped into the bathroom. Could she experiment with Katya? Wouldn’t that make things weird? Her eyes opened, let the spray wash off the suds she’d lathered into her skin. Why was she entertaining this? Experimentation is for people who are unsure. She wasn’t unsure, she liked men. Loved them. Just… uh, not Ron. She just hadn’t found the right one. She hadn’t found anyone that made her feel mushy inside, she hadn’t found someone she’d clicked with.  
Trixie stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in Katya’s towel. She scoffed at the flimsy fabric, barely covering her curves. She took her time drying, tugging on her underwear and a pair of athletic shorts. She forwent a bra for the evening and tugged a white tank top over her chest. Her tits were out, definitely, and this was not a look she would normally go for, but, here she was. It was just Katya anyway, there was nothing to worry about. She was a lesbian, not a savage. Trixie pushed the bathroom door open, the cold air of the basement causing goosebumps to prickle her skin. It was significantly colder than she thought. Katya was perched on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in her lap as she flicked through the channels. She had changed her clothes as well. She’d foregone the long skirt for a pair of boxer shorts and a sweatshirt, her bare feet were propped on the coffee table.

“Feeling any better?” she asked, taking a moment to tear her eyes away from the screen. She looked Trixie up and down for a moment, her lips parted. Trixie approached the couch Katya’s eyes following every step she took, her eyes darting across the expanse Trixie’s body.

“Yeah, much,” she wrapped her arms around herself and plopped onto the couch. “Thanks, Yekaterina,” she nudged Katya’s side, found the warmth there, and pressed closer.

“You’re fucking welcome, Beatrice,” Katya wound an arm around Trixie’s shoulders, tugging her into her side. “Jesus, you’re freezing, what is wrong with you? Don’t you have pants?”

“No, Deborah! I was lucky to find _this_ in the bottom of my dance bag!” she laughed. Katya began stripping out of her sweatshirt, tugging it over her head and nearly missing Trixie’s head with her elbow.

“Here,” she chucked the sweatshirt into Trixie’s chest, grinning all the while. Underneath, she was clad in a long-sleeve shirt. “If you’re still cold I can grab a blanket, but I don’t wanna get up right now.”

“Katya, this is not gonna fit me,” Trixie held up the garment with a grimace.

“It stretches,” Katya shrugged, “Just put it on, it’ll fit,”

“Kat—”

“Put it on, Trixie.”

Trixie scoffed and tugged the garment over her head, and surprisingly, it just barely fit over her chest and the pouch of fat over her belly. The fabric was soft, more like a sweater instead of sweatshirt, and Trixie could smell Katya’s cigarettes, her perfume.

“I’m never giving this back,” she said into the fabric. Katya screeched out in laughter, her hand gripping Trixie’s knee. Trixie curled into Katya’s side, snuggling into the crook of her arm as their laughter settled. Katya had put on some terrible film in the background of their conversation.

“So, what’re you gonna say to Kim tomorrow?” Katya asked over the droning characters.

“Kim?” Trixie asked, her eyes falling back to Katya, her lips were pursed in thought. It was only a moment before it hit her. “Kim! Oh, fuck— the dinner and Janet, oh—” Her stomach settled into a guilty pit, and she placed her face in her hands, stretching the sleeves of the sweater over her palms. She didn’t want to cry again, she wasn’t sure she had it in her. She’d been so caught up in Ron, in her own emotions, that she forgot she completely blew over Kim. Kim was probably crushed, and Trixie didn’t stop for one second to think about those consequences.

“I’ve never seen you so bitchy,” Katya said with a brief chuckle. “Are you gonna tell her about Ron? Add that to the equation?”

“Oh. My. God.” Trixie moaned, flopping her head down onto Katya’s shoulder. “She’s never going to speak to me again.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Katya laughed, “She’ll get over it, just apologize and pray to Jesus Ron doesn’t cause anymore shit.”

Trixie remained silent, so Katya added.

“Did you _ever_ like Ron?”

“I wanted to,” she mumbled in the crook of Katya’s shoulder. 

“Does that have anything to do with the fact that you’ve been trying to convince yourself you’re straight?”

 

✘✘✘

Rehearsal with Michelle at its head was… an entirely different experience for Trixie. She barked at them, critiqued every choice they made, hardly ever said anything nice, while Ru and Bianca watched on. They were working on music, Bianca filling in at the piano as they ran each song, learned each voice part. Not in order, of course, no. Larger songs first, they started with ‘Time Warp’, and Trixie spent ten minutes being chided at by Michelle about her voice not being ‘comical’ enough. She didn’t argue, accepted each critique as it came, even if her throat was starting to hurt.  
Kim was still miffed about last night, evidently. She ignored Trixie’s offer to get coffee and talk, ignored even the smallest gestures Trixie made. She wouldn’t give her the time of day. She even made the point of standing on the complete opposite side of the house, arms crossed, with brief glares in Trixie’s direction. She was being petty, but Trixie was going to let her. Katya tried to be sympathetic, but still reminded her how she really deserved it after last night. It took about two hours for Trixie to give up on working Kim over. She’d come to her when she was ready, Trixie decided. And Trixie wouldn’t grovel. She’d cried enough last night, it wasn’t going to lead into today.

“Trixie, I want you to open the show,” Michelle barked. “Science Fiction—”

“That’s Magenta’s song,” Violet called from her corner of the stage. “She always—”

“Just trying to lighten your load, Violet,” Michelle cut her off. “Since I worked you so hard last time,” The group snickered, even Trixie, despite not being in on the joke. “The character’s name _is_ Trixie, I think it’s perfect,” Michelle gave a sickly smile.

Violet made a disgusted sound and leaned her head on her hand. “But, I wan—”

“Let’s move on to ‘Sweet Transvestite’!” Michelle said cheerfully. “Katya, up at the piano, Trixie, Violet, Alaska beside her, and the rest of you go off and practice lines,” she waved her hand dismissively at the group.  
Trixie was not a fan of these new rehearsals. She didn’t necessarily mind Michelle, she’d worked with hardass directors a thousand times, but there was something a little too harsh, a little too rigorous to the way she worked. Trixie was great with criticism, she could take it and dish it, but Michelle was so… detail-oriented. She would tear into someone for just their inflection, and while she didn’t absolutely hate Michelle like Violet did, she could certainly understand where that particular clash came from. Several times, Trixie found Violet’s eyes landing on Katya, giving side-eye whenever Michelle said something more rude than constructive. But the Russian was highly unphased, she was enjoying every moment with Michelle, and… Trixie was happy to see her this bubbly. Katya’s always animated, always the life of the party, but being around Michelle seemed to heighten that trait. Katya’s jokes, her loud laughter, it was all making Trixie’s day better.  
That is, until Ron walked in.  
Trixie shouldn’t have been caught as off-guard as she was. He always came in at three, sometimes four, to set up for the show. He always watched the end of their rehearsal, and he always, _always_ tried to talk to Trixie, especially if Katya was nowhere to be found. So, she wasn’t going to be without Katya today. She locked her arm around the Russian’s the second Michelle dismissed the girls for dinner and prep-time. Katya seemed pleasantly unphased and held Trixie just as tight. But apparently, that wasn’t going to deter Ron today.

“Trixie!” he called, nervously from across the room. Trixie’s heart fell to her stomach. “Can I talk to you for like, half-a-second?”

Trixie made a noise of disgust, and she wouldn’t have gone if Katya hadn’t nudged her toward him. Her look conveyed a something along the lines of ‘you need to do this’ as she unraveled herself from Trixie, walking back towards the dressing room. Trixie rolled the sleeves of Katya’s sweatshirt up her arms and started towards the booth, towards Ron. He held out his arms for a hug and Trixie reluctantly fell into it.

“So, I wanted to talk about last night,” he began sheepishly. “I really didn’t want our first kiss to be like… uh, like that.”

“I don’t think— we’re not a great match,” Trixie began slowly. “You’re really sweet, and I appreciate the photos and the flowers, but I really can’t—”

“Oh,” Ron looked deflated, like Trixie had just popped his bubble. “I actually thought that maybe we—”

“No,” Trixie shook her head. “And I’m sorry if I led you on that way,” Trixie shifted from foot to foot. She really felt bad about this, despite the fact that he was the one that made her so uncomfortable. She shouldn’t have let this stretch to last night. She should’ve put him down sooner.

“Is this because of Katya?”

“What?”

“Is it because of Katya? The way she looks at you. And since the day you came, she’s been all over—"

“I can touch and hug Katya if I want to. I just don’t like you,” She said without thought. It was a bit harsh, sure, but she had to make a point. Be straightforward.

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I’ve… I haven’t been here that long, you know? I didn’t want to put a bad taste in anyone’s mouth. Whether that was the right way to handle this is a whole other story, but I didn’t know what to do,” Trixie shrugged softly. Ron was scrutinizing her, judging her, she knew. His gaze bothered her, but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t felt before.

“Are you, like, in the closet?” he’d asked after a moment.

“What?” 

Ron tugged his fingers through his blonde curls. “Can you blame me for asking? I can’t win, Trixie! This club is full of girls that Katya keeps _converting_! I don’t even think Violet was gay when she—"

“Katya’s not converting anyone,” Trixie’s tone was sharp. “Who _cares_ what Violet was when she came here! She liked Katya, great! Good for her! Katya’s a lesbian and yeah, everyone adores her, but it’s not because she converted anyone. She’s a great person. She took me in last night, let me cry over your dumbass, drunk decision, but not because she’s ‘converting me’! I don’t need to be converted, Ron!” Trixie spit the truth in every word that passed her pink lips, felt the honesty in her gut. Katya was a gem, and angel who’d been through hell and back. 

“I’m not _saying_ Katya isn’t the most remarkable human to ever live,” He rolled his eyes. “But whenever _I_ like a girl, she just gets in the way!”

Trixie creased her brows. “You were interested in Violet?”

“Well, duh, have you seen her? Have you seen yourself?” Ron leaned back against the booth window.

“Uh,” Trixie knew she was rather attractive, particularly in the eyes of most men, but she never _claimed_ that attractiveness to herself. She felt awkward at the sound of a compliment and being compared to Violet didn’t seem right.

“Listen, can we forget about the kiss? Start over? Maybe we could actually try and do a real date—”

“I don’t wanna date you,” Trixie cleared her throat. “Especially not after last night,” She wasn’t going to tell him he ruined her first kiss… or the idea of any kind of romance.

Ron heaved a sigh. “Guess I deserve that.”

“You do,” she nodded heavily. “I have to go get ready for the show.”

She didn’t exactly forgive him, hell, she didn’t even feel like he apologized. Not genuinely, anyway. There wasn’t much closure, she wished she had called him out about the alcohol, but it was too late now. She was already halfway to the dressing room. 

✘✘✘

“Kim, can we talk now?” Trixie’s voice chimed over the buzz of the dressing room. She had relented. Kim didn’t even give Trixie her good-luck hug before going on stage, and call her weak-willed, but that was the last straw. The cast had returned after their show and naturally began to strip. They peeled out of costume, Katya deciding to make a show of it. She was standing on her vanity, slowly tugging out of her clothes as the girls whooped and hollered. Aja had a few singles that he was shoving in the crotch of Katya’s shorts. It was mayhem, and Trixie was surprised Kim could hear her at all.  
She hadn’t told anyone about her interaction with Ron, and really, it all but slipped her mind. He wasn’t worth her time, let alone her thoughts, and she only wished she’d learned that sooner. They’d spent the evening avoiding one another, and she was okay with that. Now, it was time to make amends with Kim.

Kim was wiping her lipstick off. “Yeah, sure.”

Trixie’s face softened slightly and Kim beckoned Trixie over to her spot at the vanity. Trixie stood, moved the few feet past Katya and her dance, and sat on Kim’s counter with the most sympathetic look she could muster. Kim opened her mouth to speak, but Aja’s voice cut over them.

“YES! BITCH!”

Katya was now braless.

Trixie rolled her eyes and looked to Kim. “I owe you an apology for last night,” she said. “My day was just— it wasn’t great and we both wanted that part and—”

“No, Trixie. I understand,” Kim’s voice was rather flat.

“It wasn’t cool though, it still isn’t. I am _really_ happy for you. You deserve this, and I have Colombia and the Belasco Popcorn Girl, And, you wouldn’t have done that to me,” Trixie squeezed Kim’s shoulder. “I wanna buy you a drink to celebrate.”

“Thought you couldn’t get into a bar?” the corners of Kim’s mouth turned upwards, just slightly.

“Your ID, my money,” Trixie bit her lip, bit down her giggle. “You don’t have to forgive me, but you’ve ignored me all day, and I can’t handle that. I need attention, I need to be loved, Linda.”

“Ugh, you’re such a whiney bitch,” Kim leaned over her vanity and began fixing her brows in the mirror. She was feigning her boredom with Trixie.

“Your whiney bitch,” Trixie corrected. “Also, your favorite person on the planet.”

“Nah, that’s Katya—”

“No, Katya is _my_ favorite person,” Trixie argued playfully. Both of their eyes trained to the Russian, who was down to her fishnets, panties, and… and nothing else. Trixie sucked in a breath and laughed nervously. Chi Chi had put on “When I Grow Up’ by the Pussycat Dolls, and Katya was having the time of her life, dancing on the small space open on the vanity, smaller now that Violet had joined her. They were practically grinding on one another, and Trixie scrunched up her nose at the sight. Ginger was down below them, chiding them both angrily, but he was cut off by Aja covering his mouth. Laughter broke out amongst the group, and Katya had grabbed Violet, placing a sloppy kiss on her lips. Amusement swiftly fell into whoops, hollers, and Trixie felt her merriment give way. She just slammed on Violet for all this guilt-tripping, and here Katya was, making out with her.

“Anyway,” Kim spoke loudly, dragging Trixie’s eyes back to her. “It’s way too late to go out now, so,” she pursed her lips. “So, you can make it up to me by getting up on that table and making a dumbass of yourself.”

“Kim—” Trixie laughed nervously, her eyes falling on Violet and Katya who had long since separated.

“I’ll go pick a song for you!” Kim hopped up from her seat and strutted over to Chi Chi who was scrolling through more music on his iPhone. She turned to Trixie briefly and made a gesture for her to get on the vanity. Trixie huffed and hoisted herself up, clear heels and all. Katya turned away from Violet, almost immediately, a loud screeching laugh leaving her lips. She held out her hands for Trixie to join her in their dance, but the music shifted.

_“Hey, hey,_  
_You, you,_  
_I don't like your girlfriend…”_

Trixie gasped a little, her jaw dropping in loud laughter as she began singing along to the lyrics. She let Katya pull her into her arms. They embraced (Katya still topless, but everyone was beyond past that). Katya knew every word, sang it at the top of her lungs with Trixie. Someone had turned up the song’s volume, and soon the sound of their friends was drowned out by the pounding drums, the sound of Avril’s high voice.

_You're so fine_  
_I want you mine_  
_You're so delicious!_  
_I think about you all the time_  
_You're so addictive_  
_Don't you know what I can do_  
_To make you feel all right…_

She was going to make good. She was going to make herself look like a dumbass… and maybe have a little fun in the process.  
Trixie could feel the drum in her chest, the bass sending surges of excitement through her. She separated from Katya, tugged her messy blonde hair from it’s bun on top of her head and felt it all tumbling down. She was sure she looked a mess, but a hot mess, right? Someone in the room whistled, and Trixie over enunciated the words ‘motherfucking princess’, her finger driving into Katya’s bare chest. She looked enthralled by Trixie, and the thought excited her, elated her. Kim had, of course, pulled out her camera and was snapping polaroid photos every other second. Alaska had his phone out too, obviously recording their little mini-performance, but Katya and Trixie only pressed closer. Violet had long since climbed down and was sitting at her own vanity trying to ignore all the commotion caused by the group. Shouts were getting louder to accommodate to the volume of the music, and most everyone was red-in-the face from laughter. Her eyes roamed around the room for a moment, Chi Chi and Aja were dancing along, arms tight around each other. Kim was trying to harass Ginger into dancing with her and he only relented when she physically tugged him out of his seat. When the chorus picked up again, Katya was putting her hands all over Trixie’s waist, pulling her closer, pulling at the skirt of her short dress, and singing right into her face.  
Despite the crowd and the cameras, Trixie was allowing herself this one moment to live in the fun. She was going to get more flack for her terrible dance moves than her gay-ish tendencies with her best friend, anyway. Her arms flew up in the air, she did that weird side-to-side arm move Pearl constantly mocked her for, and (as corny as it sounds), let the music move her. Katya took her hand, spun Trixie across the table-top, and pressed Trixie’s back against her chest. She jumped a little. She could feel Katya’s nipples brushing against the cuts in the back of her tank-top. In spite of all the heat and excitement, Trixie could feel her skin shiver pleasantly at the touch.  
The idea that Trixie might regret this (especially because it was all on film), seemed to dissipate as she started grinding back against Katya.

_In a second you'll be wrapped around my finger_

She twisted her finger in one of Katya’s locks, grinning as Katya pressed back into the movements of her hips. She arched her back a little, trying to avoid the brush of Katya’s chest, but all she succeeded in doing was throwing off their rhythm. Katya laughed, pressed herself closer into Trixie, practically pulling them flush against one another. Trixie laughed nervously as Katya’s warm flesh found the exposed part of her skin. 

_Cause I can, 'cause I can do it better_  
_There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in?_

Trixie tried not to think of the reality of Katya’s hard nipples brushing her back, causing her skin to prickle, instead choosing to press her cheek against Katya’s as they moved perfectly in sync with one another. Trixie’s hair was brushing against Katya’s skin, and she wanted to laugh at her expression every time she had to blow it out of her face. Katya’s hand had found Trixie’s waist, and she pulled Trixie’s back closer, close enough that Trixie could've dropped her head on Katya’s shoulder, if she so chose. 

_She's so stupid_  
_What the hell were you thinkin'?_

Trixie might’ve pointed at Violet. And Violet might’ve saw her seen her do it. And Katya might’ve laughed so hard, Trixie had to settle her back into their grind.

_In a second you'll be wrapped around my finger_  
_Cause I can, 'cause I can do it better_  
_There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in?_  
_She's so stupid_  
_What the hell were you thinkin'?_

Katya spun Trixie back around to face her, and Trixie stumbled into her arms, losing her balance and her place in the song. She fell into Katya, who didn’t hesitate one moment to catch her and help her right herself. She was thankful to not have Katya’s breasts on her anymore. She was too far gone to be feel embarrassed. She fully let Katya grind on her, feel her up in front of an entire room of people, slipping was nothing. So she laughed. Laughed louder than the last few lyrics of Avril’s song, laughed until Katya was shaking with her own merriment beside her. Katya had wrapped her arms around Trixie’s waist, hugging her bare chest to Trixie’s side as they folded over in their mirth. Katya’s teeth were gleaming, bright, and gorgeous, and Trixie wanted to press her face in the crook of the Russian’s neck until she could breathe again.

“Damn, didn’t even have to take you to dinner first,” Katya snorted and climbed down from the vanity. Trixie made the move to follow her, but Katya was one step ahead. She took Trixie’s waist and helped her to the ground, grinning all the while.

“Doesn’t mean you’ll be getting anything else,” Trixie gave Katya a teasing grin, and she tossed one of her shirts into the Russian’s chest. “Now, cover up. Seriously, no one wants to see that.”

Ginger groaned. “Thank _you!_!”

“I didn’t mind,” Violet propped her feet up on her vanity, gazing over the room like she owned it. Katya tugged the shirt over her chest, it was far too big, and evidently one of Trixie’s own.

“Some people appreciate my titties!” Katya threw up her hands and walked over to Violet, draping herself in her lap. “Thanks, Vi,”

Violet placed a well-meaning kiss on Katya’s forehead. “’Course, baby!” she chimed. It was the happiest Trixie had ever heard her.

“Oh, God.” Kim shook her head, her finger waving frantically in the direction of Katya and Violet. “ _That_ is not happening again. No, no, no. I can’t do it. I can’t stand for it,” There was some humor in her voice, but her face looked serious.

“Why, Trixie’s gonna get too jealous if Katya’s attention isn’t 100% on her anymore?” Violet snorted. It was playful, and the comment really didn’t bother Trixie as much, not as much as she thought it would.

“Jealous like when Katya dropped your ass for me?” Trixie crossed her arms. There was no more getting upset, if Violet was going to dish it out, Trixie was going to give it right back. Katya didn’t laugh, but Trixie could tell she wanted to. She folded her lips together, pursed them in an attempt to stave off the booming sound.

Violet cocked her head at Trixie. “Shouldn’t you be crying over your repressed lesbianism somewhere?” Trixie’s lips parted in shock. Her words stung this time, and Violet wasn’t finished. Aja was stifling a bit of laughter; Chi Chi’s jaw dropped a little. “Grinding on Katya didn’t look very _straight_ to me—”

Trixie felt bile in her throat. “Shouldn’t you be guilt-tripping another girl who doesn’t want to love you?”

A chorus of ‘ooohs’ rang over the group; Katya’s face had drained of a little of its color. She had put Violet’s dirty laundry out on the table, but Violet had put out Trixie’s as well. She stared Violet down, past her looks and long brunette hair. She could practically see smoke pouring from her ears, and if looks could kill, Violet would’ve orchestrated a slaughter by now. Katya peeled herself from Violet’s lap and stood between them, as if she was deciding whose side she wanted to take.

“Katya has two girls fighting over her. Where is this world leading to?” Ginger broke the tension, a small laugh passing his lips. Nearly everyone fell into tension-shattering laughter. Violet tore her eyes away from Trixie and feigned busyness by fixing her makeup. Katya took a few steps in Violet’s direction, placed her hands on her shoulders, and looked like she was apologizing. Trixie didn’t want Katya to apologize for that. She wasn’t fucking sorry.

“Anyway,” Kim’s voice chimed over the group. “Trixie, you sufficiently looked like a fucking idiot, and Alaska and I both have it documented. You are forgiven,” Trixie laughed gleefully, strutting over to Kim. Trixie tugged her into a hug. “Still want you to buy me a drink.”

“Alcoholic.”

“Lesbian.”

“Slut!” Trixie smacked Kim’s arm, a laugh on her lips. “Go fuck yourself.”

“After that display can you really blame me?”

Trixie laughed, but still neglected to respond. Kim called her a lesbian, and she didn’t freak out. Baby steps.

✘✘✘

 

**Pearl**  
1:22am  
_who IS this trixie_  
_boston killed my country girl_  
_im deadass booking a flight rn_  
_need 2 see u 4 my own eyes_

**Trixie**  
1:23am  
_she ded_  
_i miss u a lot_  
_no homo_

**Pearl**  
1:25am  
_is that y u never txt me?_

**Trixie**  
1:26am  
_i kno im always busy even on days off_  
_im sorry_

**Pearl**  
1:28am  
_u GRINDED on a gurl_  
_beatrice mattel is officially ded ;P_  
_sry im still on this_  
_also bitch I havent heard from u in like 2 weeks_  
_no excuse find time 4 ur fave_

**Trixie**  
1:30am  
_lolololol_  
_nah im dropping hints_  
_fuck off pearl :)_

**Pearl**  
1:31am  
_nope old trixie is v much alive_  
_\+ still a fuckin cunt_  
_now u need to cum home + share newish trixie w/ me + val_

**Trixie**  
1:34am  
_literally have not spoken 2 val since i left_

**Pearl**  
1:36am  
_she always comes in the ice cream shop w/ ur sis 2 ask how u r_  
_i think she misses u_

Trixie sat up a little, cocked her head at the message. She always knew her mom cared, but enough to go visit the one friend she wasn’t a fan of? Okay, so she wasn’t a fan of any of Trixie’s friends, but still. It didn’t take much for Trixie to remind herself that David was the problem; her mom was the enabler.

**Trixie**  
1:39am  
_ya i miss sam and u and val 2 ig_  
_maybe ill call mom tmr_

**Pearl**  
1:40am  
_pls. I want her 2 stop harassing me_  
_srsly when can i cum see u_

**Trixie**  
1:44am  
_stop saying cum, bitch_  
_u should cOME see rocky. On halloween_  
_but I doubt ill get days off to spend w/ u_

**Pearl**  
1:47am  
_ill see if i can take a few days off_

**Trixie**  
1:50am  
_srsly???_  
_u might be able to be @ dress rehearsal maybe????_

**Pearl**  
1:53am  
_lit, i can meet caty_

**Trixie**  
1:54am  
_katya_

**Pearl**  
1:55am ‘  
_idc what ur girlfriends name is_  
_ill ttyl im sedated and sleepy_  
_g’night_

 

Trixie didn’t bother typing out a response. She stared at the ceiling in the dark, her nails clacking against the closed surface of her phone. She felt exhausted, her body ached, and this was the first moment of solitude she had in forty-eight hours. But she couldn’t find it in her to close her eyes. Her mind found itself wandering back to Kim. She’d barely hesitated to forgive Trixie, and a wash of relief settled in her stomach. She could not have made it in Boston without Kim, and that weight on her shoulders had finally lifted. Kim, similar to Katya, was far too good for this world. The two of them alone made Boston worth it.  
She rolled on her side and clicked through her messages. There was an unopened photo from Alaska. When it loaded, she saw it was her and Katya, dancing on the vanity. It was mid-grind, Trixie’s shoulders thankful covering the entirety of Katya’s chest. It wasn’t the prettiest photo in the world, a little grainy, but Trixie saved it to her phone’s memory. After shooting a quick ‘thank u i love it!’ to Alaska, she set the picture to her phone background, and fell asleep with it clutched to her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would it be Alanisesque ironic for me to actually fall in love/lust with [@warlordkittens](https://warlordkittens.tumblr.com/) whilst ironically promoting our virtual romance?  
> We're an actual soulmate AU, so visit us on Tumblr!!  
> [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> ^^That's me!


	10. She's Almost Too Gay to Function

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If anything bad happens with your family,” Katya began, her nose buried in Trixie’s hair. “My mamochka will _definitely_ adopt you,” Trixie smiled into her shoulder. “We can tell them we eloped.”
> 
> Trixie laughed a little at that, “No, I want the whole wedding,” she argued. “Dirt cake trough and all.”
> 
> “ _What_. The fuck. Is a dirt cake?” Katya leaned back from Trixie to give her a scrutinizing look.
> 
> “What the fuck is ‘Mamochka’?” Trixie countered. 
> 
> “Touché…” Katya’s teeth gleamed under the lights. “It’s like… a term of endearment for a mom in Russia,” she shrugged her shoulders. “And dirt cake?”
> 
> “Crushed up Oreos, cream cheese, vanilla pudding, a whole bunch of garbage,” Trixie laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Here's the chapter, finally! I really hope you enjoy where the plot is heading!! Don't forget to drop your love in the form of kudos and comments<3

Trixie liked Boston. No, she _loved_ Boston. She loved waking to loud sounds of construction, she loved hearing the traffic chatter in the mornings, most of which she’d tuned out by now, she loved living out of the quiet. She was away from the place where the loudest sounds were her thoughts. Now, she couldn’t even remember the silence. Could barely remember laying in her bed on school nights in Wisconsin, when her head was clouded by all the bad things happening. When all she could even think about was the best ways to avoid the kids at school calling her names, for the ways she could stay out of her parents’ paths, and eventually just _leave_. Trixie would cry into her pillow at night, would text Pearl into the morning contemplating how they would go about their day. Neither one of them would get a wink of sleep on the nights Trixie spent anxious, sad. And still, she’d trudge into school with the least ‘dyke-ish’ outfit she could muster from her closet and put on a smile. A smile for school, for rehearsal, for work, for every day. Every moment she had to put up with the harsh words and side-glances.  
That smile became genuine in Boston. Even to Violet, to Ron, she’d still smile because damnit, she was happy to be there. She was happy to have friends like Kim, like Katya, and the rest of her Boston cast. She was happy to have a job doing what she loved, doing exactly what she wanted to be doing every single day for the rest of her life (well, hopefully. Wishful thinking). She could see herself spending the rest of her life in Boston with Katya. With everyone.  
It was a sunny-day for mid-October. Sure, the temperature hadn’t risen, and most of the leaves were in the streets, down on the grass in the park, but… it was okay. It was going to be an okay day, despite the hardships of rehearsal that lay ahead. The weather had put Trixie in an exceptionally good mood, almost enough to walk to work… _almost_. Instead, she loaded her truck, drove in half-an-hour early and picked up coffee and breakfast for her and Katya. She was feeling generous. Katya always made mornings the best part of her day, and she’d been putting up with a lot of bullshit. A lot of Trixie’s bullshit. She wanted to repay the favor. Katya would never ask for it, though.  
When she pulled into her space, a block or so away from the Lounge, she was still smiling. Giddy butterflies began to flutter in her stomach at the thought of seeing Katya. She climbed out of her car, bag slung heavily over her shoulder as she carried both drinks and a small brown bag into the building. She waved Bianca and Ru good morning as she passed through the house and headed back towards the stage. She was practically skipping. Since the night she spent with Katya, after they’d grinded and she read Violet to filth, their dynamic had shifted a little bit. They were closer, Katya was touchier, Trixie was more receptive. It’s as if they had ascended to a new plane of friendship. And she didn’t mind if Katya’s touches lingered a little, didn’t mind if they hugged a minute (or two) longer than necessary. She loved the attention, and she rarely saw Katya give it anywhere else. She was going to take what she could get.  
Her hands were full, so it took her a little longer to get the backstage door open, and even longer to finally pull open the dressing room door.  
She wished she’d left it close.  
Katya was inside, but not alone, not like usual. No, she was being pinned up against the far wall by… someone. Trixie had never seen the woman before and wouldn’t care if she never saw her again. Trixie’s jaw hit the floor, she could just see them in the reflection of the mirror, moving against one another, kissing, fondling, hands finding places Trixie would never admit to seeing. Part of her couldn’t move, part of her wanted to rip the woman mauling Katya right off. There was a heavy _thunk_ in her chest, the sort of sinking that came with deep disappointment, with pain. She wanted to drop her coffee and turn on her heel and hide in her car.  
It came as no surprise to her, honestly. Katya had boasted of her new lovers nearly every night this week. She just kept hooking up, night after night after night. Trixie knew Katya was… an active person, but she found it to be a little much. Even for the ever-invincible Katya Zamolodchikova.  
At some point, the door slammed behind her, and Katya’s eyes fluttered open. The woman was kissing down her neck, bringing little noises out of the small Russian, and when she saw Trixie in the mirror, Katya shoved the stranger off. The girl stumbled back, Katya’s pupils were blown, and her skin was flushed. Trixie was sure it wasn’t from embarrassment.

“Ugh— guh-Good morning!” Katya began with a laugh. “How long have… you been standing there?”

Trixie’s jaw was still open, and she couldn’t take her eyes off Katya, couldn’t look away from her pink skin and the smattering of bruises, of hickeys, across her pretty neck. Katya was playing with the hem of her t-shirt, eyes bouncing between Trixie and the woman.

“This your girlfriend?” The woman’s voice tugged Trixie from her Katya-locked stupor. She spun around, and her heart thudded again, painfully. The woman was fucking beautiful. She had long, black hair that parted down the middle. It was wavy, and it framed her makeup-less face. It was a little messy obviously due to her time with Katya. Her complexion was golden, even in the shitty dressing room lighting, Trixie could see how beautiful she was. She was tall, not much taller than Trixie, but she had a few inches on her. She had moved so she could lean against the wall, scrutinize Katya and Trixie with her pretty face and judgmental eyes. The woman shifted a hand to her hip as she waited impatiently for an answer, and Trixie could see the subtle ripple of muscles beneath her shirt. Trixie covered the bit of fat on her stomach subconsciously.

“Oh, no, Tatianna… this is Trixie,” Katya made a face, her expression unreadable. “The girl I told you about last night,” Tatianna turned towards Trixie, scrutinized her up and down, and then looked as if she suddenly understood something far over Trixie’s head.

“Mm,” The woman pursed her lips as of to stave off some kind of devious smile. “You were right, she does look like ballerina Barbie,” she cocked her head at Trixie. 

Katya laughed a little and bowed her head. Trixie snapped her head at her, giving a death stare to wipe the smile right off Katya’s face. The room was heavy with tension, Trixie could feel it hanging between her and Katya.

“Brought you breakfast,” Trixie held up the bag and the coffee. “But you’re busy eating… something else,” she lifted a brow. “So, I’ll…” she pointed to the door with her thumb and turned to leave.

“No, Trixie, Tatianna was just about to leave, anyway.”

Tatianna bobbed her head. “Oh, I was?”

Katya huffed out a heavy breath. “Tatianna, I have work—”

“You weren’t worried about that when my tongue was down your throat. And now, Trisha’s here—” 

“Trixie,” Katya corrected her before Trixie could do so herself. Katya cast a glance over at Trixie, a soft one, and Trixie felt the tension melting out of her chest.

Tatianna leaned back, her head turned to one side as she gave Katya a scandalized look. Her eyes flicked to Trixie before she scoffed, a knowing, little grin on her face.

“Choices,” Tatianna tossed that perfect hair over her shoulder and brushed past Trixie, towards the door. But not before one last pause. “Text me, yeah? Last night was… fun,” Tatianna shrugged a pretty shoulder and stalked off. Trixie set her coffee on her vanity, along with the croissants she brought with it.

“Well, morning, Barbara!” Katya gave Trixie a gleaming smile. She pointed to the cup in Trixie’s hand. “Is that for me?”

Trixie hardly suppressed her smile. “It was, but after being subjected to that, I kinda wanna see if the toilet would like it better.”

Katya belted out a laugh and walked over to Trixie, taking the cup with one hand and placing the other around Trixie’s waist. “You’re wife material, Trixie. Did you know that? You make _me_ want a fucking wife.”

“That’s not legal in this state,” Trixie brushed her finger over the tip of Katya’s nose. “And I’m not a lesbian.”

“Wishful thinking,” Katya hummed softly, the tips of her fingers digging into Trixie’s back. “Can you feed me, too, mom?” she asked with a teasing little grin.

Trixie swallowed a bit of her coffee and looked at Katya over the rim of her cup. “Fuck off.”

Katya took a long sip from her own cup and made a rather pleased sound at the taste. “Mother, she knows me so fucking well. Trixie, marry me. Right now.”

Trixie rolled her eyes and hopped on the vanity, crossing her legs. “You’re being extra weird with me this morning,” she commented. “Feeling guilty?” She nudged Katya’s thigh with the toe of her character shoe.

Katya smiled fondly at Trixie’s gesture. “I never feel guilty about my hookups. I’m a free woman, Linda!” 

“That’s okay, I’ll feel guilty for you,” Trixie shrugged, bopping Katya with her toe again.

Katya chuckled silently to herself before joining Trixie up on the vanity, sitting up right next to her. “What’d you bring me to eat?”

“Oh!” Trixie grabbed the brown bag from its spot by her thigh. “I just got us two croissants,” she pulled them out of the bag, handing one off to Katya.

“The chocolate ones?” Katya asked, already breaking into hers.

“The chocolate ones.”

Katya made a delighted sound before taking a large bite from the pastry. “You know,” she spoke around her mouthful. “I think I’m actually going to try and marry you.”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth.”

✘✘✘

“Sexual _awakening_ , Kim! You feel fucking dirty, but you love it! Love the filth! Fuck Rocky like he is your last lay before you _die_!” Michelle exclaimed.

They had one more week. One week to pull their mild, three-week train wreck into an iconic production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Trixie wasn’t worried. Michelle and Ru may have been panicking, but they had laid a good foundation. Bianca had been working tirelessly on amazing costumes. She’d made half of them, bought the others, and Ru had run around in search of good props. On top of those duties, Michelle had decided to cast them in the production. The original plan was to bring in a small troupe, a little ensemble to help fill the stage and cover some of the smaller, one-lined parts. And they did. Betty and Ralph were played by old friends of Ru’s, and there were a few dancers for the party, for the ‘Time Warp’. But Ru and Michelle thought it’d be neat for the audience if they got to see Ru in action, Bianca as well. Bianca wasn’t happy, but they promised her she wouldn’t have to sing, wouldn’t have to do much more than narrate. Bianca took the role of the ‘The Criminologist’ and RuPaul was cast ‘Dr. Scott’. So, that meant while Ru scoured the town for props, and Bianca slaved over a sewing machine, they memorized blocking, lines, and music.  
It certainly took a toll. Bianca was snappier, more bitter with the lack of sleep and the work overload, and Trixie had never seen Ru so exhausted, so bitter at times. His happy familial air melted away as the days passed. He wasn’t insulting, no, not like Bianca, but his already-intimidating presence became… more or less scary to Trixie. He’d snapped at Katya’s constant nervous energy more than once, yelled at Trixie for slipping on a few notes, and lashed out at Violet for her rare insolence (Trixie really didn’t feel bad about that last one though). The only time he brightened up was when Georges came around with a kiss and a determination to build up their set. Trixie liked those days.  
Despite their hiccups, despite the franticness that came with pulling a show together on such short notice, Trixie _knew_ the show was going to be great. The cast had taken promotional photos, posted them online, even printed a few variations of show posters to hang around the city. This one-night-spectacular was sure to be a sell-out, she knew it. She was excited about her costumes, both of them. The Usherette costume was finished. She mused with it when Bianca had handed it over. It was basically a slutty movie-attendant. It was out-of-this-world sexy, and Bianca knew how to fit things for her body. Her Colombia costume was adorable as well, albeit just as revealing. Her cleavage spilled out over her top, and Katya had several things to say. The matching shorts were a little bunchy, certainly not meant for thighs as thicc as hers (Bianca had bought them at some costume shop), but with a little extra fabric, Bianca had loosened them (not too much, of course). She was supposed to be a bit of a slut, after all.

“Kim, you’ve tasted blood and you want _more_!” Trixie called over her script. “Your cherry’s been popped, now you want it completely destroyed,” Now that the two of them had recovered from their brief lapse of Trixie-Being-a-Complete-Asshole-Over-a-Show, they were both pretty content. Trixie found a way to appreciate the lot she was dealt. She had Columbia, complete with her own tap number, and The Belasco Popcorn Girl (Also known as The Usherette, also known as Trixie), complete with her own number to open the show. She realized she had little to complain about.

“I’m too gay for this role,” Aja snapped the waistband of his gold speedo. “Do ass holes have cherries? Chi Chi did you pop my cherry?” He called from the stage.

“Are you insinuating that Chi Chi tops you? ‘Cause you’re a fucking liar,” Katya wrapped her arms around Trixie from behind, resting her head on the blonde’s broad shoulder. 

“Are you sayin’ I can’t top, Katya?” Chi Chi crossed his arms. 

“Can’t? No. Won’t? Yes,” Katya grinned devilishly.

Aja cocked his head. “You listen here, sis. I’m a queen on the streets, but a bitch-princess in the sheets!” He snapped his finger. “Chi Chi takes _real_ good care of me, topping or not. I was just asking, in the events when he fucked my ass—”

“Who would top out of Trixie and Katya?” Kim interrupted. “Do lesbians do the whole top/bottom thing? Who would top if they were men?” 

“Definitely Katya,” Chi Chi said.

“Oh, Katya!” Aja exclaimed.

Okay, now she was a little offended.

Trixie made an indignant sound, “I could _top_!” she whined. This ushered a chorus of laughter from the group, even Katya chuckled lowly. Trixie could hear it, feel it in the rumble of Katya’s chest that was pressed against her back.

“Believe me, Trixie. No, you couldn’t,” Katya tangled a piece of Trixie’s curls around her slender finger.

“From experience,” Violet called over the group. “No, no you could not,”

“Trixie, you’re just _not_ a top,” Kim shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing, you—”

Trixie opened her mouth to argue, yet again, when Michelle cut the group’s banter. “Back on topic, please?” she chided, flipping a few pages in the script. “Janet, don’t forget, feel Rocky up. Show how much you want him, yeah? Can we run it from the top? Ron, scene six!”

“Got it!” Ron called back, setting the cues accordingly.

“ _Got it_!” Katya imitated, her lips practically pressed to Trixie’s ear. The tickle of Katya’s breath in combination with her mockery caused Trixie to giggle, tucking her ear against her shoulder to get the tingling to dissipate.

“Stop!” She whined playfully, shoving Katya’s face far away from her own. Katya giggled in response, her arms tightening around the small cinch in Trixie’s waist.

“You’re like a giggly, pink, pillow princess,” Katya confirmed. “Definitely couldn’t top me.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “What does that make you?”

“A sexy, devilish, power-top. A pussy destroyer. A fingering philanthropist. I am a blessing in the bedroom, babygirl,” Katya bopped her finger on Trixie’s nose.

“You didn’t look like a top this morning, you cunt,” Trixie spoke shortly.

“You wound me,” Katya whined. “You know, purely for character-study, maybe we should have sex?” Katya wiggled her brows. “Columbia and Frank, you know—”

Trixie laughed. “After seeing what you brought home this morning, I’m a little offended.”

Katya laughed loud enough to earn them a dirty-look from Michelle. “She was hot!”

“She was kind of shitty,” Trixie commented over her nails.

“I’m not bringing home holier-than-thou good Christian girls, Trixie,” Katya laughed a little. “Tatianna is an old friend of mine, who is gay, able, and very fluid with who she fucks,” Trixie nodded a little, her gaze still averted. Katya continued. “I’m not looking for a relationship, mama. I actually wanna have feelings for the person if I’m gonna be doing more than burying my face between their legs.”

“Then why’d you date Violet?”

Trixie really needed to get a grip… and maybe a brain. She was suddenly thankful for the volume of the music, and the assurance that Katya was the only one who heard. But Katya unraveled her arms from Trixie’s waist. She wished Katya _hadn’t_ heard at all. Katya laughed, but it wasn’t her usual booming mirth, just a noncommittal noise from the back of her throat. She didn’t respond to Trixie after that.  
As if to make it up to Katya, Trixie leaned farther back into her friend’s chest, laid her head back on Katya’s shoulder, and smiled up at her. This seemed to warm the older woman significantly and easily because she gave Trixie a bright, cat-like grin. Katya leaned down and placed a sloppily kiss on Trixie’s temple, affectionate, yet simple, and her arms found Trixie’s waist once more. 

“ _UGH_! Get a room!” Aja yelped from the stage. He was sitting, one leg dangling over the edge as Michelle chastised Chi Chi about something.

“Look who’s talking!” Katya yelled back. “Don’t be such a homophobe!” Trixie laughed briefly through her nose before peeling herself up and out of Katya’s arms. “See!” Katya throw threw up her arm. “You made her leave me!”

“Funny, you’re usually the one doing the leaving, Kat,” Violet’s voice pierced their conversation, pierced the fun that usually hung in the atmosphere.

“Violet,” Michelle’s voice was sharp, serious. “Let’s get back to work!”

Violet rolled her eyes, a knowing smirk on her lips. “Katya knows it’s all in good fun! I’m just being shady, right, Kat?”

“Guilt-tripping,” Trixie muttered under her breath. Katya squeezed her hip in response, but Trixie wasn’t sure why.

“What?” Violet arched her brow.

“Huh?” Trixie looked up from where she wasn’t reading her script.

“What did you say, Trixie?” She cocked her head knowingly at Trixie.

“I didn’t say anything,” Trixie shrugged. “Did I say something?” Violet opened her mouth to respond. Something sharp was going to come out, Trixie could see it in her expression, but Katya cut her off.

“She didn’t say anything, Vi,” Katya brushed with a laugh. She squeezed Trixie’s hip and pressed her closer. Trixie suppressed a grin.

“Fuck _off_ with the games, you three! We have a show to run,” Michelle flicked her wrist towards the stage. “Trixie, remember, you’re starting back of house, out of the booth. Let’s run the first number through intermission,”

Trixie glanced at Violet, her lips pursed a little. “Hey, Katya?” she tapped her cheek. “Good luck kiss?” Katya’s face was considerate before she leaned in and placed a long, lingering kiss on Trixie’s cheek. Violet made a disgusted sound, rolled her eyes for emphasis.

If Violet was going to shit on her, Trixie might as well have some fun while it happens.

✘✘✘

As with most shows, rehearsals were a rather bumpy ride. They were into their final few days, and the show was wavering between perfection and disaster. Their first dress was a train wreck, props broke, costumes malfunctioned, cues were missed, and Michelle nearly broke a clipboard (and her absurdly long nail), on the first day. Some much-needed notes, corrections, and an ass-whooping later... The cast found themselves in a better place over the next few rehearsals. There were still mishaps, mistakes were still made, and sound cues were still missed ( _thanks, Ron_ ), but it was good. The show was going to be great, and with presale already sold out - well, it had to be.  
Trixie was no stranger to the weight of high expectations. However, that doesn’t mean it never failed to bother her. She knew come opening night that her stomach would flutter, cold sweat pooling on her lower back and in the valley between her breasts. She’d reapply her deodorant seven times, check her lipstick three, and suck in a deep, deep breath. Katya had promised they could do a shot of tequila before going on together, and Trixie was going to hold her to that offer. She was going to need it.  
Trixie was always anxious to please, especially here in Boston. She figured she was a fan-favorite by now, at least to their regulars. Ru had said something a while back, and the way the crowd screamed when she entered, well… it was hard not to believe in her own crowd-pleasing ability. She was very charismatic, knew how to deliver a quick anecdote or two, and she loved what she did. That kind of passion, that kind of dedication didn’t necessarily go unnoticed by those who adore performance and all its aspects.  
Trixie was sitting in the dressing room, touching up her makeup after the evening’s performance. Katya was at her side, seeing how bad she could fuck up her makeup before wiping it all off. Trixie switched between fixing herself and watching her Russian friend with an amused expression. The rest of the room was rather peaceful. Their tedious, vigorous rehearsals had left the cast with little energy, even with how young they all are. There was still chatter, the casual sporadic laughter, but this time, no one was blasting music and jumping on tables.  
Trixie’s phone began to buzz incessantly on the vanity, lighting up with a call. She leaned over her makeup to glance at the ID, having little intention of answering it.

**Mom**

Trixie was frozen, her eyes a little wide. She felt like a teen caught sneaking out, her mom calling to chastise her. Why would her mom call so late? Why would she call at all? Trixie vaguely remembered promising Kim she would… but that was a few weeks ago.

“You gonna get that?” Katya asked, finally removing the black smudges from her face.

Trixie glanced over at Katya. “It’s my mom.”

“So, answer it,” Katya shrugged. “If she’s a cunt, hang up.”

Trixie laughed briefly at her friend’s choice of words. Her nerves had settled enough for her to reach for the phone… and flick it open.

“Hello?”

“Beatrice!” Her mother’s voice sounded surprised. “I didn’t think you’d answer, Pearl said now would be the best time to call. David’s sleepin’ and you haven’t rung us—”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to,” Trixie gathered her water bottle, gathered her nerves and stepped out of the dressing room. Katya spared her a worried glance, but Trixie brushed her off. “I just got out of tonight’s show.”

“Sweet pea, I know we haven’t been on the best of terms, but I’m still your mom,” Trixie felt like a thousand threads were pulling taut against her muscles. She wished she could say she missed her too. “How was your show?”

“It was fine, just like every other night,” Trixie said with finality. She could feel her mom’s desperate attempt to connect, her attempt to ‘apologize’, in a way. She always did this. David would come for Trixie’s throat, and her mom would attempt to patch things up, attempt to reconnect with her daughter.

“Are you thinking of coming back soon? You can’t stay away from your family forever!” Valerie had a small smile in her voice. 

“Why can’t I?” Trixie bit her tongue once the words left her mouth, her mom was silent on the other end of the line. She forced a soft laugh. “I’m kidding, me. But, uh, maybe the holidays? Depends on our schedule.”

“Oh, well, it’s gonna be November, Bea. Try and let me know, alright?” 

“Yeah, uh, how is everyone?”

Her mother paused before answering. “Sam’s great, doing good in school. She’s gonna be Hannah Montana for Halloween. Wig and all!” Her mom paused to laugh. “Danny is good. Still home, still dating that nice girl, Emily. Oh! And you know his friend? Bob? He broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago,” Valerie’s voice lilted. “Bob, with the uhm, the nose ring? Nice boy, didn’t you have a little crush on him, Trixie?” 

“Bob Caldwell? Mom, I was in middle school and he was three years older than me—”

“Honey, he’s _single_ and he’s a nice boy. If you moved back and maybe…” her mom trailed off. “It might help you lose those nasty rumors.”

“I don’t plan on moving back, Ma. I’ve… I’ve got a good thing going for me,” Trixie hated that she had to defend her place in this. After all, it was her parents that drove her away. 

“We miss you, Trixie,” Trixie clicked her tongue, her mother rarely used her preferred nickname, “Sam, Dan, David—"

“I’m sure David has been absolutely miserable without me.”

“Well, you know how he is.” Her mother paused, “how both of you are.”

“Yeah, okay, mom. I miss you too. And Sam. And Dan,” Trixie gazed at her nails, looked over their beds, and pondered how she needed to file them. 

Valerie cleared her throat. “Trixie.” 

“Yeah, mom?”

Violet suddenly rounded the corner, Alaska in tow. They were bounding down the hall, laughing excitedly. Trixie allowed herself half-a-smile. They sort of reminded her of herself and Katya, laughing like two scandalized best friends. Violet’s eyes found Trixie, and suddenly, they were gleaming, mischievously. Suddenly, Trixie felt a little wary.

“Hey, Trixie, you gonna come pick up some girls with us? I’ve been craving some good pussy,” Violet’s voice echoed slightly off the walls of the corridor, and Trixie knew, just _knew_ , her mom heard every word. Trixie could feel her heart accelerate, feel her blood in her ears. She wasn’t sure if she was angry or humiliated. Trixie covered her face with her hand, heard Violet and Alaska’s escalating laughter.

“Beatrice, are you— is there something you should tell me?” Valerie’s tone was suddenly sharp, and Trixie’s heart sunk.

Alaska lilted, “Trixie likes good pussy!” He was even louder than Violet, and Trixie closed her eyes. She wasn’t laughing.

“No, mom. No, no, it’s just some friends here, they’re goofing—” Trixie stifled, she turned away from Violet and Alaska as if she could tune them out.

“Trixie, are you--” Her mother groaned into the receiver. “Not this, not this again. You cannot tell me this is a coincidence,” 

“Mom, it is,” Trixie sucked in a breath. “You have to believe me,” 

Trixie could hear the sharpness of her mother’s voice, the way it always rose in the first stages of her anger. “Beatrice Mattel, I swear to our good Lord and Savior--”” 

“No, no, no, no. Mom—” Trixie cursed herself, cursed the weakness in her voice. “Mom, I swear, I’m not. I told you the truth before I left. I’m not gay, just have some friends who are fooling around. They’re… they’re trying to embarrass me,” she knew she sounded unsteady, knew the last thing her mom was going to do was believe her. The gay joke had followed her all the way to Boston and how much coincidence was her mom supposed to believe? “I’m sorry, mom, I’m sorry.” 

“Trixie, is she actually mad at you?” Violet’s voice softened. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t comfort Trixie in the least. Trixie wiped at a tear or two, thankful that there was no mascara for her to smudge.

“If that is the life you’ve chosen, Beatrice, we’ve told you a thousand times, we _will_ not be a part of it,” She continued, her voice steady albeit angry. “It is disgusting and unnatural. I don’t want this around Sammy. She’s ten. She’s impressionable,” Trixie felt the bile in her throat. She loved her little sister, _loved_ Sam with all her heart. It was the hardest part about being so far… Pearl, too, sure, but leaving Sam with the likes of David, her mom? It was a thought too much to bear sometimes. Trixie’s heart was sinking, her head was beginning to ache from the stress and exhaustion, and she wanted nothing more than to punch Violet Chachki in her pretty little throat.  
Trixie clicked her phone closed, nearly slammed it. When she turned back around, Alaska and Violet stood a little dumbstruck, shocked, maybe even sympathetic.

Violet opened her mouth. “Trixie, we didn’t—”

She was grateful when her sadness was overtaken by anger at the sound of Violet’s voice.

Trixie wiped her eyes, “Don’t. Don’t. It’s not like I had a relationship with her anyway, right? I mean, that’s the first time I’ve heard anything from my family since I left,” Trixie stopped. “And you know _why_ I had to leave, Violet? Because they were going to kick me out. Because they thought. I. Was. Gay.” Trixie felt a few tears, just prickling the edges of her eyes, threatening to fall with her omission. “Your joke was real funny, though,” she pointed at Violet. “Hope it was fucking worth it.”

Violet opened her mouth, looking severely guilty. Alaska looked the same and Trixie… she was a bit burned that he played along. Sure, they weren’t best friends, but they had some sort of semblance of a friendship, _something_. She was refraining from making another one of her dramatic exits. She was learning the hard way that they caused more harm than actual good. After nothing else was said, Trixie shook her head and headed calmly back into the shared dressing room, arms folded over her chest. It looked as if most everyone had left, Kim’s spot was vacant, Ginger’s too. Katya was at her vanity, thankfully with her nose stuck in a book. She hadn’t noticed Trixie’s arrival just yet. Aja had his bag slung over his shoulder, and when he turned to wish them goodbye, he stopped.

“Sis, you okay?” He asked softly. “Whatsamatter? What’re you crying for?” His voice was soft, kind, and Trixie thankful for it. Katya peered up from the pages of her book. Trixie noted how she was biting her thumb, adorably in her own little world and completely oblivious to anyone but herself. But at the sight of Trixie’s red face and tears, the smaller Russian leaped to her feet.

“Trix, oh my God. What happened?” Katya had both hands on Trixie before she could protest. She was guiding Trixie to the couch, helping her sit, and Trixie was always so shocked by the woman’s strength. Aja followed, sitting on her other side. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Trixie turned, instinctively, towards Katya, but made no attempt to touch her.  
Her phone was buzzing in her hand insistently, and Trixie knew it was her mom. Knew her mom was coming for a vengeance because Trixie hung up on her. It flared her anger.

“Violet mentioned how much I love pussy while I was on the phone with mom,” Trixie said coldly. “Val was fucking _thrilled_!”

Katya’s face fell, even her shoulders drooped as she brought a hand up to rub her face. “Damnit, Vi.” 

“I could kick her ass,” Aja offered. “Bitch, I’m from Brooklyn, I’ll whoop a cunt, I’ll stab a bitch!”

Trixie pursed her lips. “No apology, no regrets, honestly fuck her. Fuck Alaska, he was there too!”

“They probably didn’t know,” Katya assured. She patted at Trixie’s hand, but Trixie wretched it away.

“They knew,” Trixie promised. “They definitely knew.”

Katya sagged against Trixie’s shoulder, made no attempt to speak or comfort her. Aja made a few more jokes, spouted off half-hearted threats that Trixie kind of appreciated hearing. She was feeling a tiny bit better until the culprits strode in the door, looking rather timid.

Violet looked around the room, painfully aware of the conversation that was happening before she appeared. Alaska strode past her, straight to his shared vanity where he began packing his things. No one said a word and then Trixie spoke again.

“I think I’m gonna head home, get some sleep,” she rose to her feet, “I’ll see you guys for rehearsal in the morning.”

Katya considered Violet with an egregious look. “Let me walk you to your car,” Katya offered, practically leaping to her feet again. “It’s late.”

“I can walk her,” Aja offered.

“I walk to my car every night,” Trixie stepped over to the vanity, began packing her things and fixing herself. Her face was still a little red when she looked in the mirror, but her eyes weren’t as puffy. She slung the pink duffel over her shoulder. She made eye contact with Violet in the mirror, stared her down until the brunette looked away. She was going to milk this guilt for all its worth.

“I just wanna walk with you,” Katya held out a hand and Trixie contemplated for a moment, observed the soft, kind expression on her face. She glanced to Aja, who shrugged.

“It does get a little dangerous,” Alaska added. “Especially considering how gorgeous you are.”

Trixie smacked her lips at the attempted ass-kissing. 

“Either way, I’m walking out of here. I park on the complete opposite side of you, so… take your pick,” Aja shrugged.

Trixie relented. She slid her hand into Katya’s, laced her fingers between cold ones, and let the Russian guide her out. Aja left through the opposite doorway, bid them goodbye with a hug, and a whispered promise to beat the shit out of Violet. The comment actually brought a soft laugh out of Trixie, and by the time she and Katya were out the door, she was feeling slightly better. The night air was nippy, and Trixie was clad, once again, in that red gymnastics sweater, she’d never returned to Katya. It was okay though, Katya never gave back her favorite pink t-shirt. It was an even trade. Still, despite the thickness of said sweater, she could feel little goosebumps arise on her arms. She felt the October air on her face, her neck, and ears. Her hair usual provided some kind of protection, but not today, as it was tied up in a loose, greasy ponytail. Katya looked content, however. Trixie thought Katya could look relaxed wearing a bikini in the middle of a damn blizzard. She wasn’t clad in as many layers as Trixie was, just a long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and she seemed so content.

“So,” Katya placed her hands in her pockets. “What did Valerie want?”

“Usual, ask if I was coming home for Christmas and condemn me for my sins.”

Katya laughed, but it was brief, and she paused before speaking again. “Listen, I’m sorry about Violet,” she started. “I know she didn’t know about your family.”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Trixie realized she sounded a little harsh, but she persisted. “I don’t care what excuses you guys are gonna give her.”

“I’m not trying to give her any excuse, Trixie,” Katya spoke carefully. “But she wouldn’t have done that if she knew,” Trixie watched the ground, watched her shadow disappear under each yellow street lamp. She didn’t want to argue with Katya. Not having her best friend over the course of this would just make things much, much worse. Katya reached down, laced their fingers together tightly. “We can make out in the car, I know that’ll make _me_ feel better,” Trixie belted out a laugh, covered her face with her free hand.

“You’re such a slut,” Trixie tugged Katya across the street where she could see her pickup, parked rather crookedly along the curb.

“And you suck at parking,” Katya assured with a playful little smile. Trixie lobbed her heavy bag into the back of her truck and turned back to Katya once she heard it thud onto the passenger seat. Katya slipped her arms around Trixie’s waist, pulled her into a tight hug that Trixie reciprocated easily.

“If anything bad happens with your family,” Katya began, her nose buried in Trixie’s hair. “My mamochka will _definitely_ adopt you,” Trixie smiled into her shoulder. “We can tell them we eloped.”

Trixie laughed a little at that, “No, I want the whole wedding,” she argued. “Dirt cake trough and all.”

“ _What_. The fuck. Is a dirt cake?” Katya leaned back from Trixie to give her a scrutinizing look.

“What the fuck is ‘Mamochka’?” Trixie countered. 

“Touché…” Katya’s teeth gleamed under the lights. “It’s like… a term of endearment for a mom in Russia,” she shrugged her shoulders. “And dirt cake?”

“Crushed up Oreos, cream cheese, vanilla pudding, a whole bunch of garbage,” Trixie laughed.

Katya laughed and shook her head. She dropped coolly into her Russian accent. “You Americans and your sugar, your diabetes.”

Trixie yowled gleefully, “You’re the worst.”

“Me? Sweet, communist, Russian, lesbian?” Katya feigned offense. “I assure you, I am best, Trixie Mattel!” Her accent was much thicker now, a sweet sound to Trixie’s ears. 

Trixie giggled at the sound of her name, giggled at the way Katya lit up at Trixie’s amusement.

“I should probably go home,” she said after a moment. “Sleep, rehearsal, show…” she listed her reasons half-heartedly. She wanted Katya to come with her. Kind of. She wanted the affection she thought she refused earlier.

“Yeah,” Katya sounded noncommittal as well. She leaned into Trixie, their faces inches apart before Katya tilted her head, kissed the apple of her cheek and let go. “See you tomorrow.”

Trixie stood, just for a moment, watching as Katya strolled off. Watching as her blonde hair bounced beneath the yellow lights that did it absolutely _no_ justice. Her lips were parted, dry, and suddenly the cold was all too invasive.

Was Katya going to kiss her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to follow me and my lovely beta on Tumblr<3  
> Send me anons, send me drabbles! I love hearing from you guys!!!  
> Me: [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Her: [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)


	11. Oh, Wow. It's Showtime!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I should be in the booth,” Trixie coughed. She gave her lipstick one last check in the mirror. “I’ll see you later!” As Trixie turned for the door, Katya swiped her arm, pulled her in for a good luck kiss, narrowly missing the corner of Trixie’s mouth. She didn’t have time to think about that, not yet. “Katya! Is there a print?” Trixie scrabbled at her face, hoping she hadn’t fuck up her contour as well.
> 
> “No, baby, I used the good stuff tonight!” Katya laughed. “Go, go, before you miss your cue!” She swatted at Trixie as if she wasn’t the exact reason Trixie might be late. Trixie rolled her eyes, scurried off in her red skirt and character heels. She rounded the back of the building, snuck her way into the booth just in time. Michelle and Ron waved kindly as she entered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, friends! I've returned with another update and just a few things to say...  
> If you haven't seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show, this chapter could be a bit confusing. Also, consider this your only warning... **SPOILER ALERT**! This chapter does skip around the show a bit, but it reveals every character death and twist. If you do wish to watch the live show(and in this case, I recommend it), here's the link: [Rocky Horror Live](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XE_FC9-6pNg&t=5702s). This is the performance I based the chapter on, as well as when I performed it myself! Of course, I recommend the film too, its a classic!  
>  This chapter is so much and super long, I know. I spent five days toggling between my script, the show itself, and the chapter... so I really hope you like it! I tried to build in as much of Trixie's thought process as I could, and the GAY, of course, lol!!
> 
> **ALSO HEY BITCHES** , check out this piece of fanart I commissioned from toxikonsart! [Beauty!!](https://78.media.tumblr.com/0a42db621559e601687f9a0e113a39a4/tumblr_p98vvxBckZ1whm67go1_1280.png)
> 
> Don't forget to leave your Kudos & Comments! They are my total motivation right now!  
> And come see me on Tumblr! [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)

“Places! People! What the _fuck_ are ya doin’? We’re on in seven minutes!” Bianca burst through the back hallway, through the dressing room with her arms up. She looked rather comical, decked out in her costume. The theme was, clearly, fishnets. Bianca had refused to wear any sort of tight panty onstage, and instead sewed herself a nice, black mini-skirt and paired it with what she considered to be ‘classy fishnets’.  
Meanwhile, the rest of the cast looked like a bunch of hookers… and no one had any complaints.

“ _Trixie_! Fucking— you’re supposed to be in the booth,” Bianca pointed one long, accusing nail towards her colleague.

“I just have to do my shot with Katya and then I’ll be there. My guitar’s there just—” And without finishing her sentence, the frazzled blonde slipped back into the dressing room.  
The place was a disaster area. Many in the cast were doing last-minute touch-ups, on themselves and on one another. There was shouting, laughter, and casual griping from Ginger about how they needed to protect their vocal chords. He and Kim were trading scales, agility exercises back and forth, and practicing their harmonies. Trixie strode over to Katya, the only seemingly calm entity in the room. She was pouring two shots of tequila on their vanity and gave Trixie a toothy grin as she approached.

“Ready to wreck this son of a bitch?” she asked delightfully, “‘Cause I am,”

Trixie let her eyes roam (very heterosexually) over Katya and her costume. She had to say, Bianca certainly outdid herself. Katya was clad in - obviously fishnet stockings that clipped simply into her high-waisted lace bottoms. Her corset was tightly laced; in fact, Trixie was sure the structure was digging into Katya’s skin, biting, leaving red marks. Bianca had made an almost identical replica of the leather jacket Tim Curry wore in the movie, and it was strewn over Katya’s slender shoulders in preparation for the first song.  
Katya looked hot in the six-inch platforms that had her towering over Trixie, usually the tall one, now clad in simple, humbling tap shoes and low character heels. Katya looked beautiful, even with heaps of makeup on her face; overdrawn brows, a smoked-out eyes, and her signature red lip. Her hair was mussed, curled loosely in waves, and teased to look wild. She had a set of synthetic pearls clasped around her neck, and Trixie reached out to hide the clip at the back of her neck.

“Totally,” Trixie grabbed her shot glass. “Ready?”

“FIVE MINUTES UNTIL PLACES! TRIXIE, YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS IN THE BOOTH!”

Trixie snorted out a laugh. Katya grabbed her own glass with a devilish grin. “1… 2… 3!” Both girls slammed their glasses back, the liquid burning down Trixie’s throat. Katya had her glass back on the vanity in no time, and Trixie made a face before swallowing the last bit of the liquid.

“ _Fuck_!” Trixie puckered her lips. “Fuck!” Trixie studied the glass for a moment, took in the red lip-print her lipstick made on its surface. She was looking at it as if it burned her; it sort of did.

“Trixie Mattel, it’s tequila!” Katya teased, “what did you expect?” She asked, that all-knowing, toothy little smirk playing on her mouth.

“I should be in the booth,” Trixie coughed. She gave her lipstick one last check in the mirror. “I’ll see you later!” As Trixie turned for the door, Katya swiped her arm, pulled her in for a good luck kiss, narrowly missing the corner of Trixie’s mouth. She didn’t have time to think about that, not yet. “Katya! Is there a print?” Trixie scrabbled at her face, hoping she hadn’t fuck up her contour as well.

“No, baby, I used the good stuff tonight!” Katya laughed. “Go, go, before you miss your cue!” She swatted at Trixie as if she wasn’t the exact reason Trixie might be late. Trixie rolled her eyes, scurried off in her red skirt and character heels. She rounded the back of the building, snuck her way into the booth just in time. Michelle and Ron waved kindly as she entered.

“You’re late,” Michelle commented, helping Trixie maneuver her guitar over her head, her teased hair “Almost.”

“Thank you, thank you,” she ushered softly. Trixie mused over the privilege. Ru had an impossible time finding an usherette box for her to wear, and building one was far too out of the question. Their last-minute decision? Trixie was going to play _and_ sing the opening number. It wasn’t a difficult song, not for Trixie, and she had the words down already, so why turn down the chance?

“You’re on in two,” Ron said softly. “Remember to start playing, and then I’ll put the dim wash over the audience when your words start, I have the cue in my computer.”

“Break a leg, kiddo,” Michelle squeezed Trixie’s shoulder. “I’m really proud of you, I’m really glad you joined our big, ol’ family. And, Katya… she needed someone like you, especially after the whole Violet thing, she…” Michelle paused. “She really lights up when you’re around.”

Trixie laughed softly. “I love her a lot.”

Michelle gave a smile, as if she knew something Trixie did not. “I know. Me too.” 

Ron was busying himself over the board, turning knobs, dials, dimming the house lights. The crowd began to whoop, and Trixie chuckled slightly at Bianca’s curtain speech. She strutted out on stage, heels and all, and began speaking.

“We’d like to extend a very special welcome to all you… _virgins_!” She smirked devilishly as their crowd hollered, Trixie could hear it in her voice. “Before we begin, there are rules—” The crowd sounded scandalous, laughing and screaming before Bianca could continue. “ _Shut the fuck up!_!” The crowd dissolved into quieter laughter, and Trixie had to cover her mouth to prevent herself from laughing into the mic herself. Bianca’s heels clacked across the stage, down into the audience, where Trixie new she was approaching guests. “First! This _isn’t_ the fucking movie! It’s a real. Live. Rocky Horror Show! A live theatrical event that you _bitches_ will never forget! So!” The crowd hollered again. “If you think we are going to wait for you to respond to every fucking line in the show… well, we won’t!” Bianca sounded rather pleased with herself. “Two! Please, turn off all phones, beepers…” Trixie let her thoughts trail off Bianca and to the show. It was almost time for her to start playing. Her heart was thudding excitedly, fingers sliding along the strings of her guitar with nervous energy. She was going to do so. Damn. Well.  
Bianca’s curtain speech concluded, and as silently as she could, Trixie slipped from the booth to the back of the house, where no one would see her to start. A soft wash fell into the house as Trixie began her plucking, picking few the first opening measures. The house was packed to the brim. Hell, people were standing just to get a look.  
A bit of fog that Michelle had added last-minute filtered onto the stage, and Trixie felt that spotlight shroud her as her pretty red lips opened.

_“Michael Rennie was ill the day the earth stood still,_  
_But he told us where we stand,_  
_And Flash Gordon was there in silver,_  
_Underwear,_  
_Claude Rains was the Invisible Man…_

When Trixie began singing, when she parted her way through the crowd in the house, she felt euphoric; like she had the whole world in the palm of her pretty little hand. Every note was right, every step and clack of her heel. Several people in the crowd whooped, hollered her name and maybe a few catcalls. She continued to sing, putting up this sexy façade behind her guitar. When she looked onstage, she saw the rest of her cast filtering in just as they were supposed to. Katya downstage, center. Kim, centerstage, left and Ginger parallel to her. Violet and Alaska embraced upstage right. Aja and Chi Chi stood as masculine as possible, upstage, left. It was decided the cast would sing the large ensemble harmonies while remaining otherwise motionless on stage. And there they were, ready to be the backup singers she always wanted.  
She smirked at the group, at Katya who was all cocky and devilish. She overtook the stage with her outstanding presence. A still glint her eyes that captured, not just the audience, but Trixie as well.

_…Science Fiction_

Trixie bit her tongue, looking mischievously to the audience as the cast serenaded her, serenaded the audience.

**Ooh, Ooh. Ohh,**  
_Double-Feature_  
_Dr. X_  
**Ooh, Ooh. Ohh,**  
_Will build a creature_  
_See Androids fighting_  
**Ooh, Ooh. Ohh,**  
_Brad and Janet_  
_Anne Francis stars in_  
**Ooh, Ooh. Ohh,**  
_Forbidden Planet_  
_Oh, oh, ah, ooooh,_  
_At the late night,_  
_Double-Feature_  
_Picture Show…_

As the song progressed, Trixie found herself up on the stage. She’d spent ample time maneuvering through the crowd, just as she’d practiced, and now she was at Katya’s side, tossing a wink at the unmoving woman. She saddled slowly through the rest of her cast, singing the rest of the song specifically to each and every one. She paused against the final strains, pursing her lips as the group sang for her. 

_…Oh Ho_  
_At the late-night,_  
_Double-Feature_  
_Picture Show…_  
_By R.K.O._

Dangerously, she lifted her hand from the guitar, dragged it over Katya’s bulging bicep. She dragged her tongue over her lips. Everyone was supposed to be enamored by Frank, right? Why couldn’t she play along as… well, Trixie?

_Oh Ho. Ho..._

Trixie placed her fingers back onto her guitar but spared a lingering glance at Katya.

_To the late-night,_  
_Double-feature_  
_Picture Show…_  
_In the back row…_

She strummed the last few chords, drew them out with grace, and glided towards the wing.

_Ah Ooooh,_  
_To the late-night,_  
_Double-feature_

She sang the last line, unseen by the audience, and hidden in the wing with Bianca.

_Picture Show!”_

The audience launched into applause; vibrant, loud applause, as the cast scattered the stage into the next scene. Trixie dropped her guitar into a stand by the wing, high-fived Bianca, and headed off into the back hallway. She had a little time to do a full makeup and costume change. She was half out of costume down the hall. Heels off, her hands tangled in her hair to tie it up for the wig cap. She was sure the tangles were going to take hours to comb out, just to return her curls to their healthiest state, but that wasn’t her top priority, not now.  
She curved into the dressing room, began stripping out of her skirt, careful not to snag her fishnets, and then her top. She maneuvered the jacket piece off, stayed wary of her mic pack, and then plopped down onto her vanity. She began to wipe a bit of her makeup, reapply a lighter, pinker shade of red, and toss some color in her contour. As she worked, Katya strolled in, flung herself on the couch, and watched Trixie in silence. Trixie caught her gaze in the mirror, smiled sheepishly, and continued her work.

“You should be in the wings,” she said after smacking her lips. “Be a professional? For once?” she teased.

Katya smacked her lips, her eyes lingering on Trixie… or so Trixie thought. “My first entrance isn’t until after your second one, Barbara.”

Trixie rolled her eyes and smoked out her eye makeup. “Suck my dick.”

“Is your mic on?”

Trixie felt a flush moment of panic before tossing her middle finger back at Katya. “No, Ron’s pretty competent.”

Katya scoffed playfully, that shifted grin planted firmly on her lips. “You were incredible out there,” she began.

“I know!” Trixie shrugged her cute little shoulder, giggling softly with the motion. Katya huffed appreciatively through her nose. “If you’re gonna bug me, at least help me finish getting into costume?” Trixie walked over to the costume rack and pulled her Columbia pieces. Katya followed her back to the vanity, began unlacing pieces, opening them, untying her shoes whilst Trixie pulled the wig cap and her red wig over her head. She glued down the lace and combed a few stray hairs, before allowing Katya to slide on the corset. “Thank you,” She smiled graciously at Katya.

“You know I’d do anything for you. Is it okay if I…?” Katya gestured to Trixie’s chest. She nodded. Katya laced Trixie’s corset and fastened it the way Bianca instructed so Trixie’s tits nearly fell right from their holding place. The two women laughed over the sight.

“I don’t even _look_ like myself!” She lamented, pulling on the shorts to match.

Katya placed her hands on Trixie’s shoulders. “You’re Columbia, not Trixie! Also, you’re supposedly in love with me, so I think that deserves a kiss…” Katya puckered her lips playfully.

“Columbia is pissed at Frank’N’Furter! You fucked her, Eddie, and now Rocky!” she slapped Katya’s arm playfully. “I’m not going to kiss you!” Trixie laced her tap shoes as she spoke, thoroughly please with how fast her change was today.

“One kiss?” Katya pouted. “Old times sake, darling?”

She placed the final touches, her gold coat, hat, and red tie to finish off. “No, you’ll ruin my makeup because I’ve _seen_ you kiss. You go ham,” Trixie waved her hand noncommittally.

“Are you saying you’d kiss me?” Katya’s voice took a turn, and Trixie couldn’t quite put her finger on it. 

“I never said that,” Trixie answered too quickly, suddenly out of breath. “Can you focus?” she teased. “We need to be in character!” she nudged Katya, practically tugged the now-taller blonde out into the hallway. They walked together, Katya insistent upon lacing their fingers together. Trixie didn’t think much of it. So, Katya was a little clingy today… she never minded the attention. They rounded into the wing, just as ‘Over at the Frankenstein Place’ was finishing up, and Trixie was relieved.

“You need to prep for your entrance,” she placed a hand on Katya’s hip, peered out into the house briefly from the wing. The audience looked enthralled and Trixie suppressed another grin.

“I’ll prep when you go out for the Time Warp, okay?” Katya’s fingers found the collar of Trixie’s coat. She straightened it out, her thumbs brushing against the skin of Trixie’s neck. “Hey, so… I’m bringing a date to the cast dinner.”

Trixie turned to Katya. The suggestion didn’t sit quite right with her, but she shrugged her shoulder and gave Katya the biggest smile she could muster.

“Katya!” Trixie whispered. “That’s great! Who is she?”

Katya smiled. “I met her at a club. We’ve been seeing each other for a few days. She’s a writer.”

“Seeing her, as in…? Trixie lofted a brow.

“We’ve done more than fuck, Trixie,” Katya grinned a little.

“Look at you!” Trixie’s stomach twisted a little at her feigned excitement. “I’m proud of you, just don’t forget to give me all your attention—” Katya’s replies were lost on Bianca’s signature drawl as she entered the stage. It was almost time for her second entrance, so she squeezed Katya’s hand, and circled to the downstage wing.  
The stage was near black, the one spotlight shining down on Bianca as she spoke, an open book clasped in her hand. “And so, it seemed that fortune had smiled on Brad and Janet and that they had found the assistance that their plight required,” Bianca paused to chuckle at the audience. “There was certainly something about this castle to which a flat tire and a wet night had brought them...” She looked upstage. “It made them both feel—”

Some in the audience shouted, ‘Horny!’ and she watched as Bianca rolled her eyes, her nails rapping on the book cover.

“Apprehensive and uneasy,” she countered. “But if they were to reach their destination that night, they would have to ignore such feelings and take advantage of—”

“Of each other!” Some deeply masculine voice shouted, and Trixie rolled her eyes.

Bianca sneered. “Take advantage of whatever help was offered,” Bianca slammed the book she was ‘reading’ closed and strutted off the stage.  
Part of their set included a pair of doors, that was squeezed between the cyc and the upstage curtain. It served as their front entrance to the castle, and where Katya would make her arrival for ‘Sweet Transvestite’. If she craned her neck, Trixie could see Kim and Ginger situated tightly behind it, and Alaska beginning the scene. Banter, of course, ensued. Alaska was killing it, playing a rather creepy little henchman.

“Oh, Brad! I’m frightened,” Trixie suppressed a little snort at Kim’s way of portraying Janet. It wasn’t bad, just the blunt over-acting at times made her giggle.

“Oh, Janet. It’s probably just some sort of hunting lodge for rich weirdos,” Ginger patted Kim’s hand and gave her a reassuring smile.

Alaska began guiding them onstage, Trixie maneuvering her way closer to the wing as Violet appeared beside her.

“Did we miss—?” she began to ask, but Trixie responded with a head-shake.

“Few more minutes.”

Trixie was still a little burned by what Violet did to her while she spoke to her mother and has been giving her the cold shoulder… however, she recognized that they had a job to do. She glanced over at Violet briefly,

“Oh, lucky him,” Kim said softly. Trixie’s ears perked up, and she bounded on stage with Violet, checking herself into character. She grinned brightly from behind the brunette, just peeking adorably from behind her shoulder.

“You're lucky. He's lucky. I'm lucky. We're all lucky!” Violet screeched. Trixie added a well-placed giggle from behind her, and as the opening riff to ‘Time Warp’ began, the crowd’s energy peaked. There were soft whoops, calls, and Trixie was nervous that they might not be able to hear the music over the monitors.  
Alaska went through his motions, moved about the stage with an astoundingly creepy grace, Violet and Trixie followed carefully, eyes trained on Kim and Ginger.

“It’s… astounding. Time is… fleeting! Madness takes its toll. But listen closely,” Alaska twirled his hand.

“Not for very much longer…” Violet whined. Trixie’s hands found Violet’s waist, and they moved about, pressed together.

“…I’ve got to… keep control!” Violet and Trixie surrounded Alaska, laughing brightly on his last line. He began delving into the song, the ensemble joining them on stage to surround Ginger and Kim. Trixie could’ve laughed, nearly did with Kim’s feigned expression of shock. 

_“I remember doing the Time Warp,_  
_Drinking those moments when,_  
_The blackness would hit me,_  
_And the void would be calling…”_

People were everywhere, the chaos organized and loud, and it was Trixie’s favorite part of the show. She twirled and kicked and danced, put her hands on her hips, brought her knees in, and conveyed as much joy and mischief as she could.

_“Let's do the Time Warp again!”_  
_“Let's do the Time Warp again!_

Bianca appeared on stage left, standing idly with the book in her hand. At this point, many in the audience had joined them in the choreography. Their patrons were tumbling a bit drunkenly over one another, Trixie could’ve laughed if she wasn’t supposed to be in character.  
“It’s just a jump to the left,” She flipped the page of her book nonchalantly.

_“And just a step to the right!”_

“With your hands on your hips,” Bianca checked her nails. 

_“And bring your knees in tight!”_  
_“But it’s the pelvic thrust,”_  
_“That really drives you insane!”_  
_“Let’s do the Time Warp again!”_  
_“Let’s do the Time Warp again!”_

Trixie was amazed by how their performance was turning out. Everyone felt in sync with their part, their music, It was like sparks were flying through the air, connecting each and every performer with one another. Trixie glanced just briefly in the wings, saw Katya practically gleaming in stage lights. It’s like her smile put a burst of energy in Trixie. She performed that much harder, that much louder. She twirled to right off the stage, hopped into the lap of some strange man, just as Michelle had instructed. She could feel her heart thrumming in her chest, and with one more glance to Katya, she dove into the words.

_“…Well, I was walking down the street,_  
_Just having a think_  
_When a snake of a guy_  
_Gave me an evil wink!_

She tossed and adorable wink to the man whose lap she was occupying

_Well it shook-a me up_  
_It took me by surprise_  
_He had a pick-up truck_  
_And the devil's eyes_

Easy gestures, a funny twang in her voice, and Trixie’s cool demeanor, and she knew she nailed it. Columbia was perfect for her, why did she have to whine in the first place?

_He stared at me_  
_And I felt a change_  
_Time meant nothing_  
_Never would again!”_

Perhaps a dick move, but she pinched the man's cheek on her last few words. She draped her back over the table and shouted the chorus at the top of her lungs.

_“Let’s do the Time Warp again!”_  
_“Let’s do the Time Warp again!”_

Bianca joined her on the floor of the house. Trixie laughed giddily as she watched her.

“It’s just a jump to the left!” Bianca hopped, leading the group (everyone except Trixie) in the dance again.

_“And just a step to the right!”_

“With your hands on your hips,” Trixie was rather thankful, whether he was gay or just… a decent human, the man made no attempt to touch her, feel her up. Ru had arranged his friend to sit exactly where Trixie would be, just so she’d be comfortable. He clapped, even sang along, but made no attempt to touch her. She’d have to thank him after the show.

_“And bring your knees in tight!”_  
_“But it’s the pelvic thrust,”_  
_“That really drives you insane!”_  
_“Let’s do the Time Warp again!”_

As if by some grace of God, Trixie twirled off his lap and didn’t stumble. She tapped all along the front of the stage. Cincinnatis, chugs, twirls, jump-clicks, heel-steps, ball-changes, she loved it. She hadn’t tapped for a crowd in _ages_ , and it was almost a cleansing experience. Bianca had given her permission to toss her sequined hat in the crowd, and there was a wave of excitement when she did. Trixie loved how the crowd egged her on, shouted and screamed for her. Even at the end of her little solo, when she fell comically into the stage. There was a moment of cheering, loud, excitement that nearly drowned out their vocals. She climbed the steps, looked angry about her slip, and shoved Magenta (Violet) in her side, and finished off the song with their ensemble. At the last note, they all hit the floor and Trixie could barely see Kim’s heels from where she lay.

“ _Say something,_ Brad!”

Ginger let out a happy chuckle. “Say I, do any of you guys know how to Madison?”

_Thud… thud… thud…_

The ensemble sat up, Trixie’s heart rippled excitedly in her chest. She could feel Katya, feel the anticipation of her arrival coursing through her. The crowd hollered, Kim and Ginger’s lines were a little drowned out, but in Trixie’s mind, they weren’t even there.

_Thud, thud, thud_

There was something about the audience’s presence that heightened her senses, sent the adrenaline pumping beneath her skin. She climbed up on her knees, Kim and Ginger in her peripheral as Trixie and the rest of the ensemble slowly made their way to that thin curtain over the door at the back of the stage.

_Thudthudthud_

The curtains flew open, and Trixie just barely caught sight of Katya before crashing back into the floor.

_“How do you do, I_  
See you’ve met my,  
_Faithful,_  
_Handyman…”_

The crowd went wild, Trixie heard several screams of Katya’s name, and she was pretty sure some Russian was tossed in there _somewhere_. The grin she had on her face was real. Katya could make her smile like no one else. She had her long black cloak wrapped loosely around her frame. The collar was turned up, a bit crooked, but Trixie doubted anyone would notice.  
Katya was strutting forward towards Ginger, head held high as she grinned that Katya-grin. It was devilish, and characteristic, and… sexy.

_He's a little brought down,_  
_Because when you knocked,_  
_He thought you were the candy man_

Ginger helped Kim out of her ‘fainting’ spell, Trixie saw it out of her peripheral, but she barely registered it. Hell, she nearly missed her cue to move with the way Katya was captivating her. She strutted about the stage, her words clear, crisp, hell, Trixie thought they were kind of magical.

With a fluid spin, Katya threw her cloak back into Violet.

_…I'm just a sweet transvestite,_  
_From Transsexual Transylvania_

The crowd went wild with shouts, whistles, Katya’s name at the top of their lungs. Katya looked perfect. Her hair framed her face like a fucking halo, the backlights highlighting her like a goddess, and Trixie couldn’t help but note how she’d never felt this way about another person in her entire life.  
Katya walked past her, gently caressed her fingers along Trixie’s chin as she sang. It erupted something inside of Trixie, her belly fluttered, her eyes blinking slowly. Katya had a way with Trixie that just… beguiled every inch of her. Katya winked softly at Trixie before moving across the stage. The loss of contact shook Trixie back to her reality. People were watching, they had a show to do.

“I'm glad we caught you at home - could we use your phone? We're both in a bit of a hurry.” Ginger cleared his throat.

“Right!” Kim’s voice lilted pleasingly, and Trixie chuckled softly.

“We'll just say where we are, then go back to the car... we don’t want to be any worry!”

Katya chuckled brazenly.

_Well, you got caught with a flat—_  
_Well, how about that,_  
_Well, babies, don't you panic,_  
_By the light of the night,_  
_It’ll all seem alright!_  
_I’ll get you a satanic mechanic!_

The ensemble had rolled out of a small divan, and Trixie climbed up on the edge with Violet and Alaska. She paid little to no mind to anyone else, however. When Katya dropped onto the red cushions, Trixie’s hands found her chest. She caressed her shoulders, her skin, even her legs. The lyrics escaped her mind, the music, the others, it was just her… and the way Katya was _looking_ at her. It was all rehearsed, she knew that. She’d done this a thousand times… but tonight. Tonight, was just different. Tonight the tension, the adrenaline were all there.

_I'm just a sweet transvestite,_  
_From Transsexual Transylvania_

Katya paused, glanced at Trixie, and then leaned back into her lap, her hands caressing the sides of Trixie’s thighs.  
“Why don’t you… stay for the night…?” Katya offered.

Alaska hissed. “Night!”

“Or maybe… bite?”

Trixie bared her teeth, “Bite!”

_I could show you my favorite obsession,_  
_I've been making a man,_

Katya twisted her fingers in Alaska’s blonde locks.

_With blonde hair and a tan,_  
_And he's good for relieving my…_

Katya slid her hand down, patted her crotch once, and smirked.

_Tension!_  
_I'm just a sweet_  
_transvestite..._

Katya peeled herself from Trixie’s lap, Trixie and Alaska following her obediently. She stood at the edge of the stage, Trixie’s hands caressing the older woman’s hips, her stomach, while Alaska paid special attention to Katya’s leg.

_From Transsexual Transylvania_

Katya stormed off, knocked Trixie and Alaska to the ground in her wake. She pushed around several others, even Kim and Ginger hit the floor.

_I'm just a sweet transvestite,_  
_From Transsexual Transylvania_

Soon, Katya was the last one standing. She was one great presence amongst a mass of bodies strewn about the stage. Trixie could see her expression, her grin dark and devilish as she lifted Ginger and Kim by their chins.

_So come up to the lab,_  
_And see what's on the slab,_

Katya cocked her head, dropped the both of them so they could fall back onto the stage.

_I see you shiver with_  
_Antici—_

The crowd went wild, screaming at Katya to just finish her damn line. Violet and Alaska came up behind her and reinstated her cloak around her shoulders. 

_— Pation!_  
_But maybe the rain isn't really to blame_  
_So, I'll remove the cause…_

She paused, performed that signature chuckle, and slowly began to back into the curtain.

_But not the symptom!”_

The last chord echoed into the house, Katya disappeared behind the curtain, and the rest of the cast collapsed in her absence. The applause was the loudest Trixie had _ever_ heard it. Trixie could hear Katya’s name, loud and bright over the clapping, Kim’s and Ginger’s too. Trixie couldn’t suppress her grin, was thankful for the hair that was hiding her face from the audience. She couldn’t wait to get backstage and wrap Katya in her arms.

✘✘✘

Backstage was a riot. Intermission had come around and the cast had bustled back into the wings. ‘Hot-Patootie’ had come and gone, and Chi Chi had met his inevitable demise. Once that curtain had closed, he’d swept Trixie off her feet, carried her off-stage to ‘commemorate their love’.  
He took off down the hallway, Trixie’s scream hailing from the end. Ginger’s warnings about their voices falling somewhere in the background.

“Science Fiction Double Fuck-me-in-the-rake-with-a-pussy-mom!” Katya was skipping, gleefully down the hall, her cloak in one hand, her leather jacket in the other.

“Katya watch your fucking microphone!!” Bianca snarled. “Come _on_!”

“I doubt that’s the worse they’ve heard,” Katya laughed wildly. “And it’s definitely not the worst I’ve said!”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Have some fucking class, that’s all I ask…”

Chi Chi, finally overwhelmed by Trixie’s weight, dropped her on her feet so she could walk into the dressing room. Katya swiped Trixie up immediately upon entry.

“You fuckers! I have legs!” She squawked. Katya tightened her grip around Trixie’s waist, held Trixie to her chest and just laughed at her. “Katya, if you squeeze me any harder my boobs are going to fly out of this goddamn corset.”

“Right, tell the sex-crazed lesbian that,” Aja chuckled.

Katya gave Trixie one last, long squeeze, her face bright and hopeful. “Promise?” 

“Oh, fuck you—” Trixie scrambled before finally forcing herself out of Katya’s clutches. The pair laughed for a moment and it wasn’t long before Trixie crashed back onto the couch beside Katya, snuggling right up against her side. “Thank you for killing my boyfriend, by the way. Look at his face!” she slung an arm around Chi Chi who had sat next to Trixie as well. “Did he really deserve it?” She coddled his chin.

Katya took one, long look at Chi Chi. “Yes. He stole my spotlight.”

Chi Chi laughed lowly. “Aww come on, now! I was only trying to show off for my girl,” Chi Chi wrapped his arms around Trixie, gave her a brief kiss on the cheek.

“She’s my girl!” Katya argued. “My groupie!”

“That’s all well and good, but one of you bitches needs to come rub some more oil on me,” Aja stood before the trio, a bottle oil in one hand, the other on his cocked hip. Chi Chi laughed and unraveled himself from Trixie. “Oh, I was hoping. C’mon, let’s go have a quickie,” Aja took Chi Chi’s hand and giggled.

“Make sure you take our wig off, bitch!” Katya called. “No one wants to brush Chi Chi’s cum out of your blonde hair!”

Trixie and Katya laughed wildly. She dropped her head on Katya’s shoulder as the sound settled out of the both of them, dissolved into soft giggles and long-stares that dared the other to start them up again with a joke or two.

“You two need to get a room,” Ginger rolled his eyes.

“And you need a touch up,” Violet interjected. The brunette swiped up Trixie’s water bottle, strutted across the room, and held it out to her. Trixie couldn’t help but arch a brow. “Can we talk in the hall?” she asked calmly. “Just for a second.”

Trixie’s eyes darted from Katya, back to Violet, and then Katya again. Katya gave a simple shrug, but Trixie could feel the Russian’s arm nudging her forward by the shoulders. Trixie accepted the bottle, stood, and followed the brunette out of the room. The door slammed behind them, and Violet seemed to glance around nervously before finally relenting with a soft sigh.

“I think,” she began. “I owe you an apology.”

“You _think_?” Trixie almost laughed. She crooked her jaw angrily at Violet. Trixie still hadn’t heard a word from her family, even Pearl had stopped responding to her. All the joy she had obtained in the last few hours had suddenly dissipated into thin air. The anger from Violet’s horrible interjections in her phone conversation had resurfaced from where she had drowned it.

Violet bobbed her head. “Okay, well, I know I do.” She conceded. “And I really am sorry, Trixie, I had no idea. Katya hadn’t told me.”

“If she’s making you apologize to me—”

“She’s not. I promise. We didn’t even talk about it,” Violet paused. “Listen, Trixie, I know I can be shady, but it’s not with— I’m not — I don’t want to _hurt_ anyone, not genuinely,” she stopped for a moment, just to laugh. “Unless it’s your mom. I’d really like to hurt her after— after, you know, _that._

Trixie curled her lip. “That was the first time she’d called since I moved here,” Violet’s face fell, even more than before.

“I really feel awful, Trixie,” she said softly. “I’m just—” Violet shook her head. “It’s hard to remember how bad it is for some people, you know?”

Trixie shook her head. “Violet, if you haven't noticed, I’m one of the people who have it bad,”

“Like…” Violet sighed and began to speak again. “We have _such_ a great thing going with Ru. And nearly all of us are LGBTQ+. We live in this safe little bubble because very few of us have ever really had the whole homophobia issue. Katya’s family is great, mine is good, Ginger’s took some work but—” she shook her head. “It’s easy for me to forget that there are people out there who would fucking _disown_ their kids for who they love—”

“Violet, I’m not—” Trixie scoffed.

“Trixie, I know.” Violet paused. “I’m just trying to make amends, here. You don’t have to love me, we don’t even have to be friends, I mean, it’s not like we were before,” she laughed. 

Trixie sighed so she wouldn’t laugh at Violet’s joke. She did, however, give a short smile. “Yeah, okay. You know, let’s just forget it.” She waved her hand dismissively. “We have a show and work, and I just don’t have the emotional stamina to hold a grudge.”

Violet rolled her eyes playfully. “Mkay, well—”

Bianca peeked her head out the door. “If your cat fight is over, we have five fucking minutes until places.”

“Is Adore here?” Violet quipped. Bianca’s face shifted a little, softened for a moment before she grimaced. 

“Five. Minutes.” She said sharply and slammed the door behind her.

Trixie laughed before giving Violet one last look. She followed Bianca into the dressing room, walked to the mirror and began doing her last minute touch-ups. There weren’t many, just fixing flyaways and reapplying her lipstick. Trixie could see Katya talking to Violet in the background briefly, before turning and heading towards Trixie. She brought her eyes back to the mirror, back the outline of her lips. Katya was in her peripheral, well, until she placed one hard smack on Trixie’s ass.

“Ow— Hey!” Trixie stifled her laughter.

“What? Just getting into character,” she replied innocently, her finger dragging over Trixie’s lower back. The gesture sent shivers all up and down her spine. “Are you okay?”

“I am lovely,” she said shortly. Katya gave her a brief look, but Trixie only shrugged in response. “We’re fine, Katya, I promise. We’re going to continue our non-friendship like normal.”

Katya seemed to shrug. “You still gonna fight over me?”

“You’re mine, there’s nothing to fight over,” Trixie stood up straight as Katya wheezed. Trixie’s eyes were glinting as she watched her best friend bend over at the simplest inkling of her humor. Katya’s laugh was like music to her ears.

✘✘✘

Post-intermission, Trixie was situated on one of the customer’s tables with Violet at her side this time. The air had seemed lighter between the two now. She was suddenly thankful for Violet’s insistence in making amends because their chemistry seemed to flow. Violet had taken to stroking Trixie’s hair, playing with her hands, and giggling. Michelle had advised them to promote some sort of sexual chemistry (because, let’s be real, everyone knew Magenta and Columbia were fucking). Trixie was hesitant at first, especially with Violet, but they fell into a sort of rhythm. Although it had never been stronger than tonight.  
She had been sitting together through a series of scenes. Katya fucking both Kim and Ginger, Violet had left to get up to no-good in her own scenes with Alaska, and when Trixie had to light up when Violet appeared at her side once again, it was kind of genuine. Waiting was her least favorite part of the show. Watching scenes she’s seen a thousand times, listening to songs she could probably perform in her sleep, it was… rather boring.  
Bianca entered from stage left, that book still situated in her hands. She had beaten the audience into calming at her appearance, like a principal, or a mean teacher you were afraid to piss off. She began to speak.

“Emotion - Agitation - or disturbance of mind...” She said softly (well, as softly as Bianca could speak) “... vehement or excited mental state. It is also a powerful and irrational master; and from what Magenta and Columbia eagerly viewed on their television monitor,” Violet ad Trixie waved adorably to the audience before latching into each other again, Trixie’s face burying into the top of Violet’s wig. “There seemed little doubt that Janet was indeed its slave.”  
Trixie and Violet looked at each other before speaking in unison.

_”Tell us about it, Janet,”_

Kim was stroking the back of Aja’s neck, a dumbstruck grin on the boy’s face as the music filtered in over their heads. Kim had the amazing ability to make the stupidest expressions seem so genuine.

_“I was feeling done in,_  
_Couldn’t win,_  
_I’d only ever kissed before..._

Trixie grabbed a hold of Violet’s arm. “You mean she’s a…?”

Violet smirked, twisted Trixie’s hair between two fingers. “Uh huh…”

_I thought there’s no use getting, into heavy petting,_  
_It only leads to trouble and… seat wetting,_  
_Now all I want to know, is how to go,_  
_I've tasted blood and I want more,_

Trixie tossed her torso in Violet’s lap, squealed in laughter as they sang. “More, more, more!”

_I'll put up no resistance, I want to stay the distance,_  
_I've got an itch to scratch, I need assistance…_

All things considered, as much as Trixie did not want to admit it, Kim was the perfect Janet. Her movements, her ability to feign innocence and judgment was far better than Trixie’s. It bothered her a little, but it was okay. Trixie was the perfect Columbia. She was a star tapper, a good singer, funny... and had a killer body,l so there’s that. She smiled at the thought. They had fulfilled their jobs perfectly, and Trixie was glad for how it had all panned out.  
Trixie and Violet were a giggling mesh of limbs, watching scandalized as Aja and Kim had what was supposed to be sex, onstage. This part, no matter the state of their relationship, always cracked Trixie up. Aja, who was supposed to be excited, just _constantly_ looked a little confused, even overwhelmed. Violet never held back a laugh when Aja placed his hands on Kim’s boobs. Violet had mumbled ‘his poor gay heart’ just once in rehearsal, and Trixie loses it every time because of it.

Trixie squawked. “…Toucha, toucha, toucha, touch me!”

Violet tugged Trixie towards her, smirked devilishly. “I wanna be dirty…”

“Thrill me, chill me fulfill me!” Trixie leaned her face into Violet’s, nice and close. 

Violet responded by clutching the fuck out of Trixie’s jaw. “Creature of the night!”

_Oh, toucha, toucha, toucha, TOUCH ME!”_

Finally, Aja tossed Kim over his shoulder, twirled about the stage through the last few lines, and then they disappeared in the wings. Trixie and Violet chased after them in giggling fits. They disappeared into the wings at the first crack of Katya’s whip on the stage. The dialogue was fading in and out of Trixie’s ears. She had a while until her next entrance, so more waiting ensued. She grabbed her script from the prop table, looked at the scenes they had left, even if she already knew them by heart.  
As she scrolled over her words, Ru rolled up in his wheelchair. He was fully clad in his Dr. Scott costume. Fake mustache, wig, suit and all.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said softly. Trixie looked up, saw a bit of his fishnets peeking from under the blanket on his legs, and graciously covered it.

“Hey, Ru,” Trixie smiled softly at him. The two of them hadn’t had many interactions outside the basic boss-director-actor relationship, and Trixie was thankful for it. The man had a presence that was terrifying. 

“You’re doing mighty good out there,” He rose from the wheelchair and took a seat beside Trixie on the floor. “I knew you would make a great Columbia.”

“Thank you,” Trixie gave him a soft smile. “I’m really glad it played out this way.”

“Well,” he began softly. “I heard you weren’t exactly pleased at first.”

“Oh,” Trixie’s face drained a little of its color. “I just— I was focused on Janet, but I realized, you know, this was better for me. For the show,” She hoped her answer came across as professional.

He made a sound of confirmation. Trixie focused herself on the sound of Ginger singing ‘Once in a While’ before looking back to Ru. This was awkward. This was very awkward because Trixie didn’t really know how to conduct herself around Ru. The man was a bitch to read. She knew he liked her as a performer, but not much more than that. He could think she was the most annoying, petulant little bitch he’s ever worked with (She must’ve forgotten about Violet for a moment). And she’d never know.

“Why did you hire me?” The words kind of tumbled from her mouth. But it was one question she could just never answer herself. Ru looked at her thoughtfully before laughing briefly.

“Why not?”

“Dear God do not tell me that is your _actual_ answer,” Trixie laughed nervously.

“I saw a lot in you, kid. Even if it was in a parking lot,” he laughed to himself. “I don’t hire people just because I think they’re great, Trixie. I hire them because… I know they can go far, and I want to be the one who showed them that,” he paused and began to stand, Trixie could hear the tell-tale sound of the song ending. She stood too. “And I think you’ve spent a lot of time holding yourself back, Trixie. I think this is exactly where you’re supposed to be,” And with that, Ru dropped back into his wheelchair and rolled away. Trixie stared after him, long and hard, until she finally had the mental stamina to curse his almost omnipresent ambiguousness. The odd guise he wore of being wise, but vague. But still straight to the point, without giving anything away. This man was a fucking conundrum, and she was not equipped to figure him the fuck out.

✘✘✘

Trixie realized the show was coming to a close. Fast. She knew it would happen, it always did. Shows, even the rehearsal process, just seemed to slip through her fingers. One moment you’re learning a new harmony, the next you’re taking your bows. It was a grueling process for something so fleeting, something you can never relive. And Trixie would probably be sad if it meant she’d never see this group of people again, but it simply wasn’t true. She’d take her bows, go to the cast dinner with Katya, and then come into work the next day. Katya would give her a coffee and a good morning peck on the cheek, and she’s be off. Off on some new project, some new song or tap number… this wasn’t over for her. Not by a long-shot.  
‘Planet Schmanet Janet’ had just concluded, and all that was left on stage was the divan, where Trixie sat perched looking rather crestfallen. Katya was lounging in a chair off on stage left, one leg crossed over the other. She was projecting an air of exhaustion. Violet was laying on the divan, legs spread as she sang the last few lines at the top of her lungs.  
“You’re a hot dog!” she screeched. “But you better not try to _hurt her_ , Frank Furter!” Violet was practically vibrating, yelling, even as the music faded out. Trixie always struggled not to laugh at this part.

“Magenta…” Katya began.

“…better not try and hurt her! Frank—”

“ _Magenta, relax!_ ” Katya shook her head. The audience was going wild, laughing, cheering for Violet, and Katya crossed her arms in impatience. She was waiting for them to calm down. And once they did (a minute later), she proceeded in the scene.

She paused before speaking. “Columbia,” Katya began. “The artistes are in a molecular state… somewhere between entrance and exit,” she waved her hands aimlessly. “When they've pulled themselves together— see that they are prepared for the floorshow,”  
This was Trixie’s favorite part of the show, her favorite line, just before her favorite song, and she could feel her emotions swirling, burning in her throat.

Trixie sucked in a deep breath, stood, and turned towards Katya. “My _God!_ I can't take any more of this.” She started towards center stage, arms crossed over her chest in a way that she was sure was pushing her breasts out. “First, you ditch me for Eddie and _then_ you throw him off like an old overcoat for Rocky!” She shook her head. “You chew people up and then you spit them out again…” Trixie paused, took a few steps towards Katya who had stood as if she were to argue. “I loved you, do you hear? I loved you, and what did I get?” Trixie threw up her hands. God, she loved this monologue, loved every bit of emotion that came out of it. And she loved saying it to Katya. She took several angry steps at Katya, until they were inches apart. Katya’s face hinted at guilt, hinted at anger, but nothing more to the audience. But Trixie saw it. Saw that devilish, daring glint of pride in Katya’s eyes, and something else, something primal Trixie couldn't quite identify; her eyes were almost dark with it. Trixie loved every bit of it. “I'll tell you, a big fat nothing! You're like a sponge— you take, take, take and drain others of their affection!” She shoved Katya’s shoulder. “Well, I've had it! I'm out of here—” As she turned for the door, Trixie was sprayed with a gun, a blast of air by Alaska, that was supposed to make her weak and delirious. She doubled back for a moment, stumbled right into Violet’s arms who shoved her into the wing.  
As soon as she was off-stage, Bianca had her wrist in a vice grip. So much so that she nearly tumbled into the costume rack they had settled backstage. The noise onstage fell into the background as her corset was nearly ripped off by Bianca. Quick changes were a serious bitch, but she had told Bianca she needed help getting the corset off in time. So Bianca’s solution was to loosen, two, three threads, and then rip the damn piece off. It was really the only piece she needed help with, and soon, she was slipping off her shorts, her fishnets too. She slid on a pair of black silk bottoms, her other pair of fishnets, and a red corset. This wouldn’t be so bad if her entrance wasn’t first in the next scene, but, hell, what was she gonna do? Kim helped her put on a set of pearls and even gave her a good luck hug. They were running low on time, Bianca was on stage now, running through her lines to the audience. Katya appeared beside her backstage, took her sweet time changing costume, even sparing a laugh or two at Trixie’s expense. She could see Ginger lined up behind their main curtain. A new one, made entirely of long, red, tinsel. It was Trixie’s favorite, the way it shimmered, the way you could enter and exit from any side. And once Trixie’s shoe was buckled, her boa tossed around her shoulders, she rushed after him, stumbling a little, enough to make Kim and Katya laugh at the ridiculousness.  
The music started, and Trixie had maybe a measure before she pushed through the front curtain, feeling the strong strips of red caress her skin. She began to sing.

_"It was great,_  
_When it all began,_  
_I was a regular Frankie Fan,_

She strutted along the stage, arms open and welcoming, and wide. Trixie’s grin was bright, her slightly crooked teeth gleaming in the lights. She twisted her boa in her outstretched arms, suppressed a laugh as the feathers tickled her armpits.

_But it was over when he had the plan,_  
_To start working on a muscle-man,_

Of course, she flexed.

_Now the only thing that gives me hope,_  
_Is my love of certain dope,_  
_Rose tints my world keeps me,_  
_Safe from my trouble and pain!”_

Trixie twirled to a stop, frozen in place like the statue she was supposed to be. The lights faded off her as Aja began to sing.

_“I am just seven hours old_  
_truly beautiful to behold…”_

Trixie glanced into the wings, she could see Katya getting into her own red corset ensemble. She could barely make out the fake tattoos on her arms, and the pearls on her neck shimmering in the dim lights they had backstage. Even in the midst of all the rush, Katya seemed to take notice of Trixie’s eyes on her, flashing a smile at her. Damn, she could see those teeth gleaming at her from a hundred feet away. Katya had a habit of distracting Trixie even when she was doing literally nothing. Nothing at all.

_“It’s beyond me,_  
_Help me, mommy”_

Ginger’s voice filtered in and out of Trixie’s consciousness. She should be more focused, she knew that. But when you had to stand still in the dark of the stage and all you have is Katya to stare at, it was easy to zone out.

_“I… feel… released…_  
_My confidence has increased!”_

Trixie saw Katya preparing to enter; that’s when she snapped back into it. Her eyes focused out on the audience, and when their harmonies came, when Katya disappeared behind the curtain, Trixie was ready. 

**“Aaah..”**  
**“Aaah..”**  
**“Aah, aah, aah!”**

The last of their harmonies came to a close, and the group lined themselves along the front of the curtain. A huge gap separated the middle, and that’s where Trixie and Kim pulled it open and there stood Katya in all her glory. She was clad in red, lest for the black bottoms she’d been wearing all night. The biggest black and red boa Trixie had ever seen was strewn over her shoulders. And to top it off, there was a feathered head-pieced perched on her head.  
Trixie thought she had too many grand entrances; this shit was going straight to Katya’s head.

 

_“Whatever happened to Fay Wray…_  
_That delicate satin draped frame,_  
_As it clung… to her thigh…_  
_How I started to cry,_  
_For I wanted…_  
_To be dressed_  
_Just the same_

Trixie was starting to hate herself, only a little. Katya was too damn captivating, too damn distracting. She had to blame it on the show; Frank’N’Furter was made for her, made for Katya to strut around in large heels. All leg, and red-lip and blonde hair (and, honestly, it’s not like Trixie didn’t have a crush on Frank back in the day). Her mind was projecting these feelings.

_“Give yourself over,_  
_To absolute pleasure…”_  
_Swim the warm waters,_  
_Of sins of the flesh…”_

Trixie wanted to close her eyes, be pulled away by the sound of Katya’s sweet, sweet voice. True, she wasn't the best singer in their troupe, but she knew her way around a note, knew how to manipulate her voice. Katya was strolling leisurely downstage, slowly caressing herself; her hands finding every soft plane of skin, every inch of her body that she could access with some sort of sensuality. Her hands trailed over her breasts, her fingers splayed over the sweetheart neckline of her corset. Trixie’s eyes went heavy, and she was suddenly, very, very hot. 

_Erotic nightmares beyond any measure_  
_And sensual daydreams to treasure forever_  
_Can’t you just see it?_  
_Whoa, whoa, whoa…”_

Katya looked down at the planes of her body, and then back up to the audience, lost in silence. “Don’t dream it. Be it.”

_“Don’t dream it,_  
_Be it,_  
_Don’t dream it,_  
_Be it,_

Trixie, Kim, Ginger, and Aja joined Katya in harmony at a significantly lower volume. Michelle found it impertinent that none of the attention be dragged from Katya. 

**...Don’t dream it,**  
**Be it...**

Kim and Trixie parted the main curtain to allow Katya to exit as Ru rolled on stage. Katya stopped mid-step, turned to Trixie, caressed her jaw, and then disappeared in the darkness. Trixie felt a warmth spread in her belly. 

**“Don’t dream it,**  
**Be it,**

Ru had parked himself downstage left for his speech. “We've got to get out of this trap before this decadence saps our wills!” He slammed his fist on his leg, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the groups vocals. “I've got to be strong und try to hang on or my mind may well snap! And my life will be lived…” Ru ripped the blanket off his legs, revealed black stockings and stilettos. 

_“For the thrills!”_

Suddenly, everyone was shrouded in darkness, all except Kim and Ginger who closed out the song with just a few more lines. 

Ginger stepped forward. “It’s beyond me...Help me, mommy!”

“God bless Lili St. Cyr!” Kim concluded the song with her best note yet. Trixie suppressed a proud smile before taking off to the front of the stage. 

Their curtains flew open, Katya had entered again and led the group in one, long kickline. The audience applause could barely be heard over the music, their voices. “My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my… I’m a wild and untamed thing! I’m a bee with a deadly sting!” Trixie knew without looking that Katya had shed her boa and her headpiece, probably kicking her leg higher than anyone in the group. Ru had cycled up, his fishnet-clad legs in the air. Katya broke the line, dropped herself in RuPaul’s lap, and let the man roll about the stage, laughing.  
Trixie always required her utmost focus here to complete choreography. So much was happening onstage at once. Lights flashed over the red hue the stage was cast in, Katya was laughing over the ensemble’s vocals, Ru nearly ran everyone over in his wheelchair… it was an utter clusterfuck.  
She loved it. 

_“...So let the party and the songs rock on,_  
_Gonna shake it ‘til the life has gone!_  
_Rose tint my world,_  
_Keep me safe from my trouble and pain!”_

Suddenly, the stage was bathed in black, the only light was a pale white that was emanating from the main doorway upstage. In the open doorway stood Violet and Alaska, clad in silver and black. Trixie, Katya, Ginger, everyone hit the floor. Smoke slowly billowed from the doors onto the floor of the stage. Trixie felt a rush of cold air.  
If anything could be said about Alaska as a performer, it was that boy could belt. Hell, half the time he didn’t even need a microphone to get his parts across. At the top of his voice, Alaska began to sing.

_“Frank 'N Furter it’s all over,_  
_Your mission is a failure!_  
_Your lifestyle's too extreme!_

He glanced to Violet who was standing with just as much power and presence, even still as she was. 

_I'm your new commander,_  
_You now are my prisoner!_  
_We return to Transylvania,_  
_Prepare the Transit beam!”_

Katya stumbled roughly to her feet. “Wait! Wait— I can explain!” Slow music began filtering through the house,the smoothe sound of a sax, blasting through the monitors plagued Trixie’s ears. Katya walked upstage, pushed past Violet and Alaska before shutting the doors from whence they came. She turned to the audience looking subdued, almost shy. 

_“On the day I went away…”_  
**“Goodbye…”**  
_“Was all I had to say,”_  
**“Now I…”**  
_“Want to come again and stay,”_  
**“Oh, my, my…”**

Katya maneuvered her way along the stage, fixed herself at Ginger whose hands she took in her own, kissed his knuckles in between verses. And then, she made her way to Kim, sang softly to her before Kim wrapped Katya in a big hug, held onto her for a moment, Trixie smiled briefly. 

**“I’m going home…”**  
_“Everywhere its been the same,”_  
**“Feeling…”**  
_“Like I’m outside in the rain,”_  
**“Wheeling…”**  
_“Free to try and find a game,”_

Trixie could feel tears welling in her eyes, could feel a twist in her chest because damnit. Katya. Fucking Katya. She was killing every note, evoking emotion in every person in the room.  
**“Dealing…”  
** _“Cards for sorrow, cards for pain…!_

Trixie launched herself to her feet, wrapped her arms around Katya’s torso. Katya’s arms immediately found Trixie’s shoulders and she was almost positive she heard a soft crack, a skip in her voice. 

_“I’ve seen the blue skies,_  
_Through the tears in my eyes…_  
_And I realize…_

Katya lifted Trixie to her eyes, held her face with both hands and swiped away a tear that had escaped. Trixie smiled; not Columbia, it was Trixie who smiled softly at Katya. She tried to convey her pride for the Russian; for her performance, for their friendship. And Katya smiled back. 

_“I’m going home…”_

She placed a soft, printless kiss on Trixie’s forehead. 

_“I’m going home…”_

They parted, Trixie turning to sit back down on the stage while Katya headed upstage towards Alaska. But she turned again, just as she always did, faced the audience, and sucked in a breath. 

_“I’m going home…”_

There was a pause, a beat of silence before the audience flew into applause, whistles, shouts. Katya stood, bathed in a soft, blue light, as was the rest of the stage. She looked so beautiful. 

Violet sneered. “How… sentimental!” 

“And also presumptuous of you—” Alaska begun, his Transylvanian accent heavy. Each ‘r’ was rolled, each ‘o’ swallowed. Trixie remembered when Katya had taught the dialect to Violet and Alaska. They'd haul up in the dressing room during break times, Trixie would sit at Katya’s side, sharing whatever lunch the two had ordered for the day. She'd drop into her Russian accent, change a few of her inflections, and demonstrate the words, oh so slowly to their friends. Trixie even took a turn, struggled a few times, but it eventually clicked. Katya had looked so proud. “You see when I said 'we' were to return I referred only to Magenta and myself! I'm sorry however if you found my words misleading…” His lips curled into a mocking grin. “You see, you are to remain here— in spirit anyway—” Alaska produced a gun he had in his belt, pointed straight for Katya’s chest. Aja tossed himself between the two. 

Aja cried, “No!” 

“Great heavens! That’s a laser!” Ru yowled from downstage. 

Alaska chuckled deeply. “Yes, Dr. Scott, a laser capable of emitting a beam of pure anti-matter!” 

Ginger stood as well, eyes wide. “You mean you're going to kill him? What's his crime?” 

Katya shook her head, a weary smile on her lips. “Oh, Brad…” She squeezed Aja’s shoulder, urged him out of the way. Aja complied. 

“You saw what had become of Eddie - Society must be protected.” Ru interjected vilely. 

Alaska nodded, that dark smirk still painting his lips. “Exactly, Dr. Scott. Now, Frank’n’Furter, your time has come! Say goodbye to all this— and hello to oblivion!” 

Katya stood, spread-eagle before Alaska. Her eyes were dark, accented by the blue casting over the stage. Her eyes shone with challenge. “Do your worst! Inferior one,” she sneered. 

Alaska reared back, and Trixie took that as her cue. She flew to her feet. “No! _No_!” She wrapped her arms around Katya just as the sound cue for the laser went off, she convulsed, clung to Katya like her last breath. 

“No! NO!” Katya’s voice truly sounded agonized, she turned to Alaska, glared with every bit of anger she could portray. Katya grabbed a good hold of her, clutching Trixie to her chest while shouting in agony. She held Trixie’s face with one hand, her body with the other, and their eyes locked. “...Did… did you do this for me?” Katya asked, gently lowering Trixie to the stage for her death. 

Trixie nodded before falling limp. Katya let out one last agonized sound, but not without brushing her hand over Trixie’s breast; just discreetly so.  
Trixie was going to fucking kill her. 

She could hear Alaska’s taunting chuckle and Katya’s screams for help as she bustled around the stage. She didn't know their paths, could only guess. She was always dead when they blocked this.  
But, then the laser sound cue went off again, Katya’s voice fell silent, replaced by Aja’s screams of agony… and Trixie got chills. She never had anything better to do here than, well, be dead, and tonight, her mind wandered. Her mind wandered to the thought of Katya actually dying and-- Trixie wanted to shake her head. Her breath caught a little, her blood ran cold with sadness, and she had to force herself out of her thoughts. She tried to follow the sounds onstage, but the laser went off again, and she realized Rocky (Aja) was dead too. 

“You’ve killed them…” Kim gasped. 

“I thought you liked them…” Violet spoke. Her voice was soft, but it curled around those Transylvanian consonants like Alaska’s did. “...They liked you…” 

Something snapped in Alaska’s voice. He shouted to Violet, “They didn't like me! They never liked me! You saw the way things were— the way they were going!!” 

Ru spoke again. “You did right,” Alaska turned the gun on Ru. “Oh, shit!” 

“You should leave now, Dr. Scott,” He said. “While it is still possible. We are about to beam the entire house back to the planet of transsexual.” 

“In the galaxy of Transylvania,” Violet added. Trixie could hear her heels clacking across the stage to join Alaska. She knew Alaska wrapped his arm around Violet… right now. 

“Go, now.” 

Trixie could hear everyone getting up to move, to leave. There was a loud explosion, the stage fell to black and lights flashed in the audience. Trixie scrambled to her feet, flew into the wing at the fastest speed she could manage. She had about… a minute for her costume change.  
Bianca was already waiting with her pieces laid out amongst the props table. Trixie had _ripped_ her wig off, cap with it, and tossed it on the table. Bianca helped her shimmy into her skirt, and into her jacket to hide the wrong corset. Katya didn't even come over to distract, but she did see her out of her peripheral. Trixie changed shoes, allowed Bianca to fix her hair, place the hat she was wearing back on her head. She could hear the song closing, and she was panicking. 

“My guitar!” Trixie whispered. “Please!” Violet dashed out for her, grabbed her six-string acoustic and draped it over Trixie’s pretty shoulders. She thanked her; silently, but she thanked her. Bianca was doing the last of her touch-ups before Trixie heard the last chord of the song. She took a moment. She had maybe… fifteen sure seconds of applause to calm down. The audience was roaring, screaming. She could hear several of their names, her own included, being omitted by the appreciative crowd. It comforted her, calmed her adrenaline enough to catch her breath and step out onstage. Alone. 

_“Science fiction…_  
_Double feature_

Trixie plucked easily at her guitar, smiling almost sympathetically to the audience. A single white spotlight, illuminated Trixie on an otherwise pitch stage. She walked slowly across the stage, heels clacking quietly in her wake. She stopped centerstage. 

_Frank has built,_

Another spotlight, illuminated Katya directly to her right. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her hip cocked. 

_And lost his creature!_

Another on Aja came up. 

_Darkness has conquered._  
_Brad and Janet._

And one more for Kim and Ginger, embracing in a very picturesque manner. 

_The servants gone to a..._  
_Distant planet!_

Violet and Alaska were illuminated. Alaska was pointing the laser gun to the rafters, looking rather regal, and hell, masculine. She glanced across them all, smiling softly, adoringly. 

_Wuh, oh, oh, oh..._

Trixie closed her eyes, a sense of peace finally watching over. Who cares if her family didn’t want her? 

_At the late night,_  
_Double feature,_  
_Picture show..._

Especially for something as simple as her supposed sexuality? That was _their_ fucking loss. She wasn't losing anything but the people that had hurt her. Time and time again. 

_I want to go,_  
_Oh, oh, oh…_

She glanced amongst the stage at the people who have been there for her. Only a few months had gone by and she had found her people, her niche. Fuck those who had forsaken her, fuck ‘em. 

_To the late night…_  
_Double feature…_

She had her family. Right here. Trixie smiled at Katya, and Katya smiled right back. 

_Picture show.”_

The curtains closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you too much to my beta, [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/), visit her ass on Tumblr!
> 
> **ALSO HEY BITCHES** , check out this piece of fanart I commissioned from toxikonsart! [Beauty!!](https://78.media.tumblr.com/0a42db621559e601687f9a0e113a39a4/tumblr_p98vvxBckZ1whm67go1_1280.png)


	12. Russian Nesting Dolls & Discontinued Toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know I wouldn’t miss this! You were so excited,” the girl replied, resting the palm of her hand on Katya’s cheek, a smile playing on her lips. She was looking into Katya’s eyes as if she were the only person in the room. Trixie felt a coldness on her hand where Katya touched her just moments ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, I LOVE this stupid chapter so. much.  
> I have to absolutely give SO MUCH CREDIT to my beautiful beta, [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/). She helped me with character development and dialogue, this chapter was a full collab, and cannot be more grateful for her devoting her time. Give her literally all your love.  
> Also, bitches, don't forget to visit _me_ [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! I love your anons, I love all your messages, and I love you!!  
>  Don't forget to give me Comments & Kudos because you know they make me feel alive.

Trixie could feel her adrenaline pumping, her heart thrumming excitedly in her chest. she felt as if she was going to burst from the excitement. The curtains had closed, shielding the cast from the eyes of their devoted audience, but not from their cheers not from their calls and whistles and claps. Trixie wanted to stay rooted to her spot and just listen to everyone. There was always a moment after the curtain closed, \when she knew she had nailed every moment of her performance. She could hear the crowd, their hollering practically pushing the blood through her veins. They egged on every moment of her excitement, every burst in her adrenaline. This one was the best feelings she’s ever felt, by far.  
After removing her guitar from her shoulders and placing it in its stand, she bustled up behind Katya, who was getting her mic taken off by Bianca. She threw her arms around her scrawny friend, giggled into Katya’s shoulder blade and the ends of her ever-growing blonde locks. Any chance of her snapping out of this daze was lost by the touch, the smell of Katya. Katya leaned into Trixie’s touch, giggling madly.

“We fucking wrecked this bitch,” she mumbled to Trixie. “Didn’t we?”

“We did,” Bianca commented with a satisfied nod.

Trixie giggled affirmatively, her head bobbing. “Yes, we fucking did!”

“I had to admit, I didn’t think we could pull this off,” Bianca began. “We really came to crunch time.”

“But we did,” Violet said coolly, placing her discarded mic pack on the prop table. “So, is _Adore_ here?”

Bianca gave Violet a long, irritated glare. Trixie watched with amusement, as did Katya who, by this point, had twisted herself around and had slung her arm over Trixie’s shoulder.

Finally, Bianca relented. “Yes,” she paused, her expression giving away nothing. “Adore flew in last night.”

Katya let out an almighty screech. “I love that dumbass cunt! She’s coming to dinner, right? Or are you skipping dinner in favor of…” Katya pursed her lips, “…dessert?”

“Fuck dessert, when’s the wedding?” Violet asked.

“I told you, we aren’t together right now,” Bianca said roughly. “Her career doesn’t really allow for any kind of relationship.”

Katya laughed. “Yeah, but you two still have phone sex, don’t you?”

Bianca took a swing at Katya, attempted to backhand her with the book she’d used as a prop, but Katya, ever-the-reflexive-one, ducked just in time for it to make contact with Trixie’s head.  
Trixie didn’t even have the reaction time to shout in pain. She stood there, a little dazed from the ringing in her ear and the thrumming in her head. Bianca gasped, ushered a few apologies (as well as some half-hearted scolding about how Trixie should’ve been paying attention) while everyone else laughed at her expense. Katya was doubled over, trying to seem apologetic for the first few seconds, but she and Violet were clutching their sides.

“Trixie!” Violet shouted slowly. “If you still think you’re straight, then she didn’t correct your brain damage,” The comment sent Katya back into fits of laughter, and Bianca joined her. Trixie swiped the book, tried to whip it for Violet’s head but sorely missed. “See! She can’t even throw straight!” Katya howled in mirth.

“Stop!” Trixie whined, sounding far more petulant than convincing. Katya wrapped her opposite arm around Trixie, laughed into her mussy curls.

“We’re just fucking around,” she mumbled. “C’mon. Let’s go meet our adoring fans. I think my parents are out there.”

“Ooh, Gale and Alex are here!” Violet whistled. “Ugh, tell them I miss them.”

“They don’t miss you,” Katya teased. She tugged Trixie by the shoulders to the downstage wing. Violet and Bianca were following suit. She could hear the crowd, still bustling and shouting from down in the house. Kim and Ginger were at the head of the pack, checking themselves in preparation for their last grand entrance. Their arms were linked, but Kim still turned to squeeze Trixie on the shoulder. Trixie winked in response.

“Do I look okay?” she asked Katya, her fingers flying to her lips. Katya had decided to link their arms, exactly as Kim and Ginger were.

“You just performed for two hours, Trixie. You look like garbage,” Katya laughed wildly. Trixie scrunched up her face, brought a well-placed punch right into the side of Katya’s ribcage. “And can we go? What’s holding us up?”

Ginger slicked his hair. “Ru is still getting his mic off.”

“Slow, old fart,” Katya snorted.

“What was that?” Ru asked from behind. Trixie could feel the man’s shadow falling over the two shorter girls. She suppressed a laugh.

“Go, go, _go_!” Katya feigned urgency by shoving Kim and Ginger out into the wing. But she was grinning mischievously and Trixie could hear Ru’s laughter in the meantime.  
Kim and Ginger stumbled out on stage, the applause resurfaced out of the chatter, and the cast came down the main steps in little cliques. She listened to the sounds of their names, shouts of praise and whistles. Katya squeezed Trixie’s arm as they descended. The sound, however, was cut off by one singular voice.

“WILLOW!” 

_Willow?_ The voice was the product of a blue-haired girl, not much older than Trixie herself. She was... adorable. She was practically bouncing, her long hair, as seemingly unruly as it was, was billowing behind her as she rushed to the stage as if her whole life depended on it. Pausing for a brief moment to readjust her view as she got on stage, she zoomed in on her target - Bianca, apparently - and ran straight into her arms. The girl, who Trixie now realized had to be none other than Adore, nearly toppled Bianca over in her hug. Trixie watched as the older woman mumbled something into Adore’s blue curls, hand placed gently on the small of her back. It was the widest Trixie had seen her smile in at least a month. 

“Adore!” Katya broke from Trixie, took off with the rest of the cast to take Adore into their arms. The group was clearly far too invested in their old friend rather than in the audience, and Trixie watched as she hugged each and every one of them. There was simple chatter, Adore resuming her place in Bianca’s arms. Trixie hung back, rocking patiently on her heels. But Adore’s pretty green eyes fell on Trixie.

“ _Girl!_ ” she shouted. “You were amazing!” she approached Trixie, pulled her into a tight hug that Trixie was only half-comfortable reciprocating. “Seriously, bitch, I can’t believe you! Guitar, tap— that _voice_! Where have you been?”

Trixie laughed awkwardly. “Thank you! Thanks girl, I’m Trixie—”

“Oh, I know! Bianca told me as soon they replaced me,” Adore turned, smiled smiling sweetly at Bianca. “She didn’t tell me how great you are! We gotta talk, I got a producer back in WeHo—  
West Hollywood, that’s where I’m at. I grew up in Azusa but hitch-hiked over to Boston and I would—”

“Okay!” Bianca placed her hands on Adore’s shoulders. “Why don’t we save the stories for dinner, yeah?”

“Katya would never forgive you if you took Trixie to WeHo. You can’t take her away like that,” Violet crossed her arms.

Adore whipped her head back around to Trixie, her blue hair nearly smacking Bianca in the face. “You’re dating Katya??” she gasped. “Fucking party.”

“No, no, no, we’re not dating just—” Trixie paused. “Just really close.”

“Close like…?” Adore held up two fingers, dragged her tongue up between the digits. She caused roars of laughter from the cast. Trixie half-laughed and looked to Katya for some sort of help.

Katya, still bursting with laughter, approached Adore and Bianca. “No, no. Just friends! I can be friends with girls.”

“Mm, barely” she laughed. “But, still, I'm down with that!” Adore leaned back into Bianca’s embrace and the little touches the brunette kept placing on her arm. They looked at each other, briefly, but Bianca looked like she could melt into her lover, right then and there. It was a moment of intimacy Trixie didn’t entirely feel welcome to. 

“C’mon, Chola. Let’s go say hi to Michelle and Ron,” Bianca said softly. Adore nodded and gave one last wave to Trixie. 

“It was nice to meet you, Trixie!” she said brightly.

Katya approached Trixie with a soft little grin.

“Not someone I’d expect to see Bianca with…” Trixie laughed.

“Adore is Bianca’s only weakness. How do you think we get her to do stuff?” Katya adjusted the collar on Trixie’s costume. She glanced around them, watched as Kim, Ginger, even Violet spread out to designated groups of people. Families, friends, she was glad she had Katya. Or else, she’d be alone, wandering amongst strangers—

“ _Yekaterina!_ ” Over the hustle and the bustle, Trixie heard the distinct inflection of a feminine Russian voice. Katya’s face lit up.

“Mama!” she cried gleefully, taking Trixie by the hand and pushing her way through the crowd. They bustled past their audience, maneuvered through chairs and tables until they were met by a family of four. The woman who very clearly Katya’s mother was shorter than them both. Trixie realized most of Katya’s looks must’ve come from her mother. A bright, wide grin, small eyes and short blonde hair that was streaked with white. Katya wrapped her arms around the woman, kissed her cheeks and grinned with those perfect teeth. Trixie took a step back, tried to blend into the nearby crowds. Beside the woman was a man, a few inches taller than Trixie. He had hair a shade or so darker than his wife’s. His smile, Trixie noted, was also significantly smaller, a little less bright. He looked humble, proud of Katya. Then there were two women, one clearly younger than Katya by a number of years, and the other… Trixie wasn’t entirely sure of her age. She had darker hair like her father’s but shining blue-gray eyes like Katya.

Once she finished embracing her mother, Katya took her father into a hug. There were a few more kisses, some words passed in Russian, and soon Katya had hugged everyone down the line. Immediately, Katya dove into a spiel about something. She could make out a few English words, like her mention of the stage, of the costumes, but the rest was in rapid, rapid Russian. She had seemed to forget Trixie was there. Trixie felt just a bit awkward, wrung her hands, and was debating whether or not to just go backstage and change. There was no one here for her anyway. Finally, Katya’s mother caught eye of Trixie, smiled softly, before mumbling something in Russian.

Katya wheezed briefly and turned to Trixie. “Sorry! I got a little…” She made a frazzled gesture with her hands. Trixie could still hear traces of that Russian accent in her voice. “Mama, Papa, this is Trixie Mattel!” she said brightly. “She moved from Cow-Town, Wisconsin a few months ago.”

Trixie glared at her, but it was short-lived. Katya’s mother had enveloped Trixie in a binding hug. “Very nice to meet you, Trixie! You were very, very good!” She rolled the ‘r’ in Trixie’s name just as Katya would. She hugged the woman back feeling rather awkward. “You may call me Galina, and this,” she placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder, “is my husband Alexander,” She made awkward eye contact with Katya’s father, but he nodded politely.

“It’s great to finally meet you!” Trixie smiled, tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear. “Katya has told me quite a bit about you.”

“Is this the one you call Barbie at home?” Katya’s sister, the younger one, queried. “The one you never shut up about?”

“ _Elena!_ ” Katya hissed playfully. “Trixie, this is my garbage little sister, Elena.” She paused. “And this is my garbage older sister, Liliya.” Liliya shoved Katya’s shoulder.

Galina snapped at her daughters, something that sounded very, very Russian. She punctuated with a warning to ‘be nice’. It reminded Trixie a bit of her own mother. 

“Middle child, no wonder you’re so fu— so weird,” Her comment earned a laugh from Katya’s siblings.

“You’re a middle child,” Katya quipped.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Trixie twisted at a bit of hair on her wig. 

“Is your family here, Trixie?” Galina asked.

“No, no, they’re still…” she glanced at Katya. “In Cow-Town,” she rolled her eyes playfully.

“Why did you move here, then?” Liliya asked. Trixie gave her a once-over. The woman was tall, was dressed rather professionally. She was tidy, her hair pin-straight unlike Katya’s or Trixie’s own. She held herself very classily, seemed a bit more polished than Katya would ever want to be. She gave off a vibe so different to Katya’s that it was almost hard to believe the two were siblings.

Trixie hesitated. “Uh, change of scenery.”

“Did you perform in… Wyoming?”

“Wisconsin— and, no. Well, not like this, anyway,” Trixie paused. “Church, fairs, school talent-shows—”

“That sounds nice!,” Galina said gently, “Yekaterina has trained as a gymnast since the age of three,” she added. “But I suppose this cabaret makes up for nights of staying up stoning her tights.”

Katya rolled her eyes, clearly uncomfortable but at the same time well-accustomed to her mother’s displeasure at her life choices.

“She was well on her way to compete in the Olympics,” Galina reached up, fixing a bit of Katya’s hair.

Katya swatted her mother’s hand away.

“Oh, no, but she is _so_ talented,” Trixie bit her lip. “I’ve actually never heard that story.”

“Yeah, that’s because _I don’t like talking about it._ ” Katya said.

“Apparently it was very stressful environment! But cabaret is not so stressful!” She put her hands up in the air, exasperated, “sequins and leotards! Honestly,” she turned to Katya, “you could just stay gymnast if you like those things.”

“ _Mama_!” Katya groaned. “Stäp!”

Katya lowered her eyes, her face igniting into a soft red. Trixie squeezed her hand, her expression encouraging. Katya looked up, her face softening slightly at Trixie’s touch. 

“So,” Elena crossed her arms, anxious to change the subject. Katya and Elena had little resemblance to one another. Elena had larger eyes, darker hair like her father’s. However, Trixie saw so much of Katya in Elena’s posture, the way she presented herself and spoke. Thinking about it, Trixie realized both girls were probably trained gymnasts. “Are you and my sister a thing, or what?”

“ _Elena_!” Katya chided.

“What?” Elena whined.

“I’m not gay,” Trixie said with a soft smile. “It’s okay,” she touched Katya’s wrist.

“…Really?” Elena pressed. “You give a vibe.”

Great. There were two of them.

Trixie sucked in a breath and kneeled, just enough to look Elena in the eyes. “If I were, don’t you think I could do much better than your sister?” Katya made an indignant sound as her little sister burst into a similar laugh-wheeze-laugh pattern that she undoubtedly took from Katya. Trixie adjusted herself, stood up straight and fixed her skirt. She turned to Katya who was looking playfully scandalized.

Alexander, for the first time all evening, spoke up. “It’s getting late,” he had a deep, rumbling voice that sort of caught Trixie off-guard.

“Mm!” Galina made a noise in agreeance. “Yes, Elena has meeting in the morning,”

“Cross-country,” Elena corrected, she turned to Trixie. “I want to learn how to run from my responsibilities.”

Katya laughed wildly, took the younger sibling into a rather large bear-hug. “Oh! She’s a woman after my own heart!”

Liliya made an indignant sound. “Let’s hope not,” the comment sounded sour, but there was a sort of smile on her lips.

“It was nice to meet you all,” Trixie assured.

“You as well!” Galina gleamed. “If ever you need a thing, don’t hesitate to ask Katya, yes?” she winked at Trixie. “Hope to see you more, Trixie!” With the last few hugs passed around, Trixie turned in preparation for their leave. But Galina fell behind, clutched her daughter’s hand softly, but firmly. “You take good care of yourself, Yekaterina,” she said softly. “Call home if you need me, need anything. Ya lyublyu tebya.” 

Katya smiled softly, squeezing her mother’s hand. “Yes, mama. Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu,” Galina squeezed her daughter’s cheek, smiled, and then disappeared back into the crowd. 

Katya licked her lips, looked to Trixie with a shy smile. The red from her blush was still fading.

“What a waste,” Trixie said, looking after her family.

“What?”

“Such a nice family for such a fuck up like you,” Trixie shook her head. Katya laughed, wildly, loudly. She clutched her hand on Trixie’s forearm, doubled-over for a brief moment.

“I _know_!” Katya screeched. She had stood back up, wiped the tears from her eyes, and looked at Trixie with a soft sort of affection.

“You’re so fucking lucky, I’d kill for that.”

“Believe me, I know,” Katya looked after her family with a soft sort of smile. “She really would stay up whole nights stoning tights and leotards for my competitions, you know.” Trixie smiled at the thought, watched as Galina’s short head disappeared out the club doors. 

“My grandpa was the same. I’d have a performance at church or at school, and he’d spend all his time making sure I had the chords down, had the picking right. Bought me my first guitar,” Katya turned to Trixie, gave her a sort of half-smile, but there moment was sorely interrupted. In the midst of their moment, of the chaos of the room, Katya’s eyes lit up again. 

“Babe!” Katya waved to someone, far across the theatre. She could see movement, a tuft of long, blonde hair maneuvering its way through the crowd. The girl must’ve been rather short because Trixie could only see the slight bit of blonde in the crowd.

Soon, she was standing just before them. She was petite, dressed in pink with voluminous, wavy blonde hair that was far more defined than Trixie’s curls have ever been. She handed a bouquet of flowers off to Katya, who grinned graciously. Trixie felt her mouth go dry when Katya pulled her into a kiss. “Oh my God, I’m so glad you came!”

“You know I wouldn’t miss this! You were so excited,” the girl replied, resting the palm of her hand on Katya’s cheek, a smile playing on her lips. She was looking into Katya’s eyes as if she were the only person in the room. Trixie felt a coldness on her hand where Katya touched her just moments ago.

“You just missed my family, thank _God_ ,” Katya teased. Trixie was about to turn, couldn’t really stomach the way Katya was looking at the little blonde. The thought worried her.

“Oh!” the girl turned to Trixie, fixing her intense gaze on her. She placed a gentle, well-manicured hand on her arm. “You. Were. Fantastic! Honestly, best part of the show— other than this Russian slut,” she nudged Katya. “I really like your hair,” she said with that same quiet, deliberate voice. “Do you style it on your own?”

Trixie had to clear her throat, blink a bit. She was staring. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. Thanks,” Trixie gave a half smile.

“That’s actually one of my favorite things to do,” She laughed, squeezing Katya’s hip. “I mean, it’s not like writers have to have amazing hair because we rarely leave the house, but my hair has to be a damn Barbie statement, you know?” Trixie did know, and she had no idea how to feel about that. The girl looked straight into her eyes as if she really was interested in Trixie’s opinion. 

“I -- yeah, actually, I do,” Trixie answered weakly, her stomach sinking a little further. “Definitely pulling off that all-grown-out Skipper trying to outshine her sister,” she instantly regretted that backhanded compliment.

The girl laughed. “Trying and succeeding, bitch! Thank you, Trixie!” 

“It’s the first thing I noticed about her,” Katya smiled adoringly at the girl. “The pink and blonde fantasy.”

“Oh, that sounds familiar,” Trixie said shortly.

Katya looked up, her brows suddenly creased with… understanding? She opened her mouth to respond, but Ginger found his way over, Alaska at his hip.

“Mama Ru says the reservation is in an hour, we gotta get out of costume and makeup—” Ginger said softly. His eyes fell on the girl then on Trixie. He cocked a brow. “Who’s she?”

“Uh,” Katya looked from Trixie down to the girl, she seemed to be contemplating her words before she spoke.. “This is… well, this is my girlfriend, B—”

“Your _girlfriend_?” Ginger looked rather incredulous, eyes blown wide. 

“You’re dating the Polly-Pocket version of Barbie over here,” Alaska gestured to Trixie. Trixie felt a little sick, a little too in the spotlight. 

“Alaska! That’s not cool,” Katya chided.

“No, no,” the girl waved her hands. “I guess that is an abundance of Barbies, isn’t it? Pink, blonde, I get it. I’m not offended.”

Trixie had to bite her tongue. The inexplicable urge to say ‘I am’, hung on her tongue. Everyone was looking at her. Looking for her response.

“So, uh, you… never told us your name,” Trixie deflected.

“Oh God!” she laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t! It’s Brianna.” She paused. “Brianna Cracker!”

“ _Cracker_?” Alaska quirked his brow.

“Uh, yep! Like the snack and the racial slur.”

Alaska, Ginger, and Katya all burst into short fits of laughter. Trixie smiled. She seemed funny, nice enough.

“Polly-Pocket is funny!” Alaska mused. “You got someone coming for your gig, Mattel!”

Trixie managed a laugh before tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. “I’m going to change. See you at dinner,” she started to push past Alaska.

“OK, see you at dinnerrrrr!” Brianna laughed.

“Are you still riding with me and Brianna?” Katya asked.

Trixie hesitated. A car with Katya and Brianna and no way home? No. definitely not.

“No, I’ll take my truck,” she said coolly. “See y’all later.”

“She has a truck?” She heard Brianna ask quietly as she walked away, “are you _sure_ she’s not a lesbian?”

✘✘✘

Trixie wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this Cracker girl. She seemed nice, she seemed to make Katya… very happy. She reminded Trixie of all the girls who’d avoid her at school, except Brianna was a lesbian and seemed like an actually decent human being. Nonetheless, there was just something about her Trixie couldn't stomach. Sure, she’d just met the girl, but something. Something was there. Something about her Trixie could barely tolerate.  
Trixie had changed out of her costume, wiped nearly all her makeup off, and was halfway to the bar. It was a little place on the outskirts of the city, something not-so-fancy, thank God. She had left the dressing room in jeans and a sweater, nothing more. She had focused her energy on not having to run into Katya and _Brianna_. Pretty little _Barbie_ Brianna. Her hands were tight on the wheel as she drove, knuckles white. She’d been mulling over her thoughts, the idea of this new girl. And her conclusions? Not good ones.  
She supposed she ought to get used to her. Katya had seemed rather taken with her. Despite the fact she had seen Katya fucking with that other girl (Trixie had already forgotten her name) just a few days before. Whatever had taken them both, had taken them quick and Trixie just didn't like it. Didn't like it _at all_.  
Was she a fucking homophobe? Is that why she was feeling this way? Had she just internalized everything her parents had tried to instill in her? She’d never had issues with Katya’s sexuality before. It was just something they’d joke about, something that was never the focus… hell, they spoke more about Trixie’s preferences than they ever had Katya’s. Trixie slumped in her seat as she pulled in the parking lot. Her head hurt. Her eyes hurt from practically glaring at the road. She took a long, deep breath.  
This was _Katya_.  
They’d be together… a month at most. And Trixie could deal with her issues some other time. Still… Trixie grabbed her phone from her bag, flicked it open and clicked the only person she knew she could consult. 

**Trixie**  
11:23pm  
_do u think im homophobic_

Trixie slammed her phone closed and grabbed her keys from the ignition. She just had to get through dinner, she could leave right after she ate if she wanted.  
It was time for dinner.  
The bar was busy, as was to be expected in a bar in Boston at 11PM. People were chatting, drinking, and it was almost hard to see with all the commotion. It didn't matter much. Trixie spotted Kim’s well-manicured hand waving her over to a long, long table in the center of the room. It looked like the cast had just strung together three tables out of nothing and claimed their space. As she approached, she saw Kim and Ron, tucked in the farthest corner. Trixie took her seat on the end, adjacent to Kim. Kim’s eyes lit up. 

“I expect we’ll all be getting raises,” Kim said, tossing her pretty black hair. “Because we fucking blew the roof off the place tonight.” 

“We sure did,” Ron half-raised the beer he was drinking. Trixie ignored him. 

“Yeah, s’been a great night,” she eyed the wine Kim had sat before her. God, she needed a drink. She wished she had a drink. “No one could've played Janet like you, Kim,” Trixie squeezed her hand. 

“Mm, yeah,” Kim laughed. “But you were def the highlight of the show, I think. When you came back on, the people fucking lost it… I was watching from backstage and I think you made Katya horny,” Ron choked on his bottle. 

“ _What_?” Trixie laughed. “Oh my God, you are so full of shit!” 

Kim set down her glass. “I’m serious, mama! When you ripped into her, the whole ‘I love you’ monologue, that bitch’s pussy--” 

“ _Kim!_ ” Trixie covered her face, covered her blush. As embarrassing as she might be, Trixie was happy to have her right now. “Five minutes, can we not talk about sex for _five_ minutes?” Kim busted out into laughter, Ron joining in half-heartedly. Something was different between the two of them tonight, and Trixie’s stomach did a flip. Thankfully, the attention was thwarted to Adore and Bianca. They had arrived and taken their seats beside Ron. 

“What’s the tea? What’re we talking about?” Adore asked, tucking a bit of that blue hair behind her ear. 

Bianca splayed her fingers on the table. “Listen, I don’t give a fuck what you were talking about, I wanna know who Katya was leaving the club with.”

Trixie sunk in her seat. 

“I think it’s just her date, or something. Some chick she’s off and on with,” Ron commented. 

“Trixie would know,” Kim said smoothly. 

Trixie flagged down the waitress, ordered herself a fucking iced-tea, and turned to Kim. “Girlfriend,” she deadpanned.

“ _No_ ,” Bianca made a dismissive gesture. 

“Uh, yes,” Trixie said irritably. “Words out of her mouth,” She was annoyed. Miss Brianna was going to be the talk of the night, apparently. 

Adore ordered a coke, and promptly played with the straw when it was placed before her. “She looks just like you,” she commented softly. “Are you, like, jealous at all?” she swirled the straw with her tongue. 

“Seriously, if she wanted to date, you know, _that_ , she should’ve gotten in your tutu a long time ago, Mattel,” Bianca shrugged. 

Trixie shook her head. “I’m just… skeptical.” 

Katya and the Skipper-look-alike flounced in just in time, looking far too happy. Katya was laughing ridiculously loud and Brianna was holding her hand, staring at the Russian like she hung the damn moon and stars. Trixie clicked her tongue and put on a bright, blindingly crooked smile. 

“Hey everyone,” Katya began once she had recovered. “This is my girlfriend, Brianna!” 

Brianna gave a small smile, waved over the group. “Hey, everyone-- Hey, Trixie!” Her grin widened in recognition, and just like that, Brianna had tugged Katya over to the table. She sat herself on the corner opposite Kim, right between Katya and Trixie. Trixie’s smile faltered only a little. She tried to convince herself it didn't matter… she could see Katya over ‘Skipper’s’ head anyway.

“Trixie, Trixie, Trixie!” she said with a soft grin, those burning brown eyes boring into her, tongue wrapping around the syllables of her name, trying them out. She reached her hands out and laid them on the table, as if she wanted Trixie to take them. She really seemed to like Trixie, and Trixie wouldn’t have it. 

“Miss Brianna Cracker,” she flouted, her tone unpleasant. Something shifted in Brianna’s hopeful face and Katya was looking rather sharply at the two of them. Trixie sighed, leaning forward a bit. “So, uh...” she looked around, mentally trying to will Kim into turning her fucking attention to her. Kim, who had an arm linked with Ron’s and was speaking with hearts in her eyes. Disgusting. She needed a save and she needed it now, but it wasn’t very well happening. Her mind reached for anything at all, before finally settling on “...Katya tells me you write? What, like, ‘Top Ten Mascaras of 2008’ type of thing?” Trixie couldn’t help but give Brianna a once-over. 

Brianna burst into a laugh. “No, not at all,” she said quietly, her expression suddenly serious. Trixie’s eyes absentmindedly fell to notice the way Katya had slung a confident, lazy arm over her girl’s shoulder. Trixie could see her massaging little circles in her arm, being so soft, so… affectionate. “I write about performance art, popular culture and the queer experience,” she added, “you know, less mascara and more the influence of drag culture on Lady Gaga’s music, or why South of Nowhere is the single most important TV show we have for young queer women today -- more along those lines.”

Trixie’s cheeks turned an embarrassed red, thankfully hidden in the relative darkness of the restaurant. She understood virtually none of the words that just left the petite blonde’s annoyingly pink lips moments ago. “Uh, yeah,” She twisted her finger around one of the curls that had slipped from her bun. “Honestly, I can’t believe Katya is dating you,” Brianna lifted her brows and Trixie straightened up. “No-- I mean, Katya doesn’t really--” 

Brianna laughed. “I know, I know! She never really seemed like the… one-woman-type, I guess,” she tossed a bit of that pretty blonde hair. “I’ve known her for a few months, but we never did more than…” she made a very obvious, lewd gesture. “And what do you know? I caught feelings,” Brianna reached over and clasped what Trixie assumed was Katya’s thigh. Her smile was so sweet and grossly genuine.

“Hold up, a few months, really?” Trixie’s ears perked up at this new bit of information. Surely, Katya would’ve mentioned it? Her head hurt trying to recount every conversation they’ve ever had and coming up short with any mention of saltines. “How did you guys even meet?”

“We met at the community center,” Katya interjected. “The yoga classes I go to and you never wanna get up early for?” She added at Trixie’s blank expression.

“Oh!” Trixie said dumbly. “So you do yoga?” _Great, a new generation bendy Barbie._

“Hardly,” Brianna laughed again, “but I’m there most mornings for karate.”

Trixie’s mouth opened, her lips forming an ‘O’ shape. _Who was this girl?_ “Karate, are you serious?”

“Black belt, bitch, this one can kick your sorry ass,” Katya laughed. 

Truthfully, and Trixie would never admit this to anyone, that little blonde didn’t have to put in any physical effort in order to kick her ass, it was all right there. Searching her mind for additional backhanded compliments, she came up short, as the girl turned towards Katya, her brown eyes bright in the dim light of the restaurant. Katya seemed to drown in those eyes, as the girl’s hand reached to gently stroke her neck. Such a small, intimate gesture. Trixie suddenly felt abandoned, completely out of her depth, a cold feeling pooling in her stomach. The air was suddenly sucked out of the room, leaving no room for her. Only Katya and Brianna existed in that moment.

Trixie leaned back in her seat, surveying the table for a moment, letting out a long breath. While she was fixated entirely on Brianna, the rest of their group had trickled in. Michelle had taken a place between Ru and Katya, who was engaging her in some sort of performance-based discussion. Beside Ru, were Violet and Alaska, settled into their own conversation. Aja and Chi Chi were down beside Adore, and Ginger was exactly parallel to Trixie herself… all the way at the end of the three table stretch. Everyone was engaged in some sort of chit-chat, just like the dressing room. Everyone's pairings, their cliques (and then some). Except Trixie was way too far from Katya, and she had a Cracker practically jamming herself down her throat. 

Kim, suddenly noticing Trixie’s disengagement from the conversation, took ahold of Trixie’s forearm. “They’re really cute,” she coaxed softly. “After the year Kat has had, I’m glad she found someone.” 

Trixie wanted to cuss her out, just a little. Fuck Kim for always being right. “Yeah.” 

“Trixie, are you okay?” Kim finally said, her voice had lowered significantly. “You’ve been acting a little off since she got here,” Trixie looked around. Ron was speaking to Bianca and Katya and Brianna were in their own little world. “Is it the whole matchy-matchy thing? Are you like… jealous?”

“Kim--” Trixie began sharply. 

“I’m not implying what you think I am,” Kim said defensively. “But you have no reason to be worried. Katya is great at balancing friends, relationships, you know?”

“I just --” Trixie started, unsure of what she was going to say.

“Hey, Barbie!” Violet’s voice carried over the table. As if on cue, both Trixie’s and Brianna’s heads shot up. Violet, Alaska, Ginger, and Aja all bursted into loud, cackling laughter. Louder than the rest of the damn bar. Trixie rolled her eyes. 

“Welcome to the damn dollhouse, you rotted cunts,” Cracker replied sweetly, not missing a single beat, her voice loud and clear. After a brief moment of stunned silence at the new girl’s audacity, the cackling resumed.

 

✘✘✘

Okay, so Brianna wasn't _that_ bad. She was sweet and attentive, and she was taking interest in Trixie. A month. One month. She just needs to put up with this for a month. Right? It can’t take much longer than that.  
Meanwhile, Katya was testing Trixie’s patience, offering her girlfriend some of her food to try.

“No, babe--” she laughed. “You know I don’t eat shrimp,” 

Katya swallowed, “right, right, ‘it has no fins or scales,’” she quoted, clearly amused, happily digging into her food.

“Wait, I’m sorry, what?” Trixie interjected, the couple being her only entertainment now that she was again abandoned by Kim. She glanced at Kim, who was well into her third glass of wine, leaning suggestively against Ron. This night could not end sooner.

“I’m Jewish, we don’t eat shellfish,” Cracker explained matter-of-factly. “I’m also not a natural blonde,” she added, smiling at Trixie’s expression.

“You’re--” Trixie started.

“A brunette, I’m afraid.”

“God, you really are Skipper, aren’t you?” Trixie asked, eyes widening.

Brianna burst into a laugh. “See bitch! Trying. And. Succeeding.” she said proudly. 

Trixie huffed out a sigh, stared into her mostly untouched salad. She’d lost her appetite as soon as Brianna had walked through the door. She’ll wake up starved later in the night, she knows it, but how could she get anything down, anyway? Her eyes roamed the table. _Everyone_ was occupied. Kim and Ron were nearly cuddling (Trixie never did tell ]\how shitty he was, although, she’ll be glad to give her an update). Katya and Brianna were talking about… ‘the queer experience’ or whatever and completely ignoring her entire existence. Trixie huffed, pushed her chair back from the table, grabbed her purse, and stood. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Katya asked, her eyes finally leaving Brianna’s. 

“Uh, bathroom,” Trixie creased her brows. She made a dismissive gesture with her hand, directing it towards Brianna. “Carry on.” 

Katya laughed briefly. “No, I’ll come with you,” Before she could say a word, Katya had sprung to her feet, kissed Brianna on the forehead, and started towards the bathroom. Trixie pursed her lips and followed. At least now Katya might speak to her. 

“Whaddaya think?” Katya mused. They were far out earshot of the table and Trixie briefly contemplated telling the truth. 

“Of what?” Trixie asked. She pushed the bathroom door open and headed straight for the mirror. Her hair was practically falling out of its bun, and she had a red stain where she over-lined her lips for the show. 

Katya leaned against the sink to watch her. “You know what,” she giggled. “Brianna!” 

Trixie took her hair out of her bun. “Don’t you have to piss?” 

“Don’t you?” Katya countered. “Answer the question,” she nudged her playfully. 

“I think…” Trixie began, trying to manipulate her hair into a loose braid. Wearing it down was totally out of the question. “I don’t know what I think.” Trixie said finally. “Why do you even care what I think? You didn't tell me about her in the first place,” Trixie couldn’t look at Katya. Instead, she focused her eyes on the inside of her purse, looking for whatever makeup she had on hand. She found some foundation powder, a little concealer, and some mascara. She pulled all three items out of her bag. 

“Is that why you’ve been so off tonight?” Trixie could see Katya adjust her stance against the sink. Trixie began applying the mascara to her eyes. “Are you… mad? Jealous?” She flinched at Katya’s words, the mascara smudging on her lid. 

“God fucking--!” Trixie huffed angrily through her nose. “No! Can everyone just _stop_ fucking asking me that!” she grabbed a paper towel, began futilely trying to wipe the black smudge off her face. “I’m just gonna go home,” she said finally. “I’m not even having a good time.” 

“What do you mean-- Trixie, what is going on with you?” Katya was slightly taken back by Trixie’s outburst. She placed a careful hand on Trixie’s arm, tried to comfort her. She glanced at Katya’s fingers, the way her thumb was moving in soothing circles, the way she always touched her. The way Trixie watched her do it to Brianna, just an hour or so ago. She pulled her arm away and sighed. 

“I just don’t feel good, okay?” she said softly. “And no one is even talking to me out there,” She finally looked up Katya and her eyes held… so much understanding. Sympathy, even. 

Katya reached out, tucked a loose strand of Trixie’s hair behind her ear. “Don’t go yet. Ru’s gonna do some mushy toast, Michelle will probably roast a few of us, and then we’ll talk some more. Stay. I promise Brianna and I will talk to you for the rest of the night.”

Trixie didn't want to talk to Brianna, hell, she barely even wanted to look at her. But Katya’s face, so endearing and genuine… Trixie’s feelings be damned, she couldn't fucking say no. 

Trixie sighed. “Okay, okay, I’ll stay,” she forced a soft smile to a giddy Katya, who immediately pulled her best friend into a tight hug. 

“Thank you! And, listen,” Katya took Trixie both both forearms, and suddenly she couldn't recall a moment where the Russian looked so purposeful. “Bri might be my girlfriend, but you’re still my best friend, and this doesn't change us…” 

_It’s already changed._

“... you kno--” Katya smiled genuinely, brightly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“What?” Katya suddenly looked perplexed. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about her, Katya?” Trixie peeled Katya’s hands from her skin. Her voice was a little firmer, a little more sure of the fact that, damnit, she had a right to know. “She said months.” 

Katya opened her mouth to reply but closed it again. “I-- well, I didn’t think you’d… I mean,” she sucked in a breath as if to clear her head. “Why does it matter? You never asked?” 

“Sorry, I never thought to,” Trixie quipped. “Considering you were _fucking every girl from here to the Massachusetts-New York stateline_.” 

Katya paused to laugh. “Now, that just makes me sound impressive. I can’t wait to tell Brianna, she literally thinks I’m so lame--” 

Trixie felt defeated. “Let’s just go back, Kat,” Trixie turned her back towards Katya, her heart deflated. She pushed the door to leave, purse in hand, makeup smudged. She heard Katya follow, but the Russian made no attempt to speak, which Trixie ultimately found beyond odd. Brianna was waiting at the table, eyes bright, her sweet smile growing bigger at the sight of her girlfriend. As Katya leaned in to whisper something in Brianna’s ear, Trixie thought haughtily to herself that she couldn't care less what it was. Okay, maybe just a little bit. As she took her seat, Trixie had half a mind to turn her back to the petite blonde, but she couldn't help but think of Katya. And how Katya didn't really need the drama. And how they’d all probably think Trixie a homophobe. 

“Trixie,” Cracker mused. “Do you have a boyfriend? Maybe we could double-date?” 

Trixie, who managed to swipe the wine glass Kim had refilled and was already mid-sip, almost spit out her drink. “No, I scare them off,” she coughed, settling for a rather weak half-truth.

“Oh,” Brianna looked so thoughtful.“Maybe I have a friend I can introduce you to--” 

“I don’t think I’m too interes--” 

“What a great idea,” Said Ron, suddenly a part of their conversation, his arm slung heavily around Kim’s shoulders. _What was it with the fucking couples?_ “You don’t have anyone outside the Lounge, you know? Expand your horizons. ” Kim opened her mouth to undoubtedly agree, but closed it at the sight of Trixie’s face. Katya’s face looked pleading, like she was asking Trixie to humor her. Trixie scrunched up her nose. 

“I don’t think dating is really, uh, the focus right now,” Trixie shrugged. 

“Found that out the hard way,” Ron laughed. Kim laughed too, although Trixie was sure she had _no_ idea what he was referring too. But Katya did, a sudden darkness crossing her eyes, then disappearing into a blank expression. 

_It couldn't get worse._

Customers had long trickled out by now which left the restaurant significantly quieter, which meant it was so much easier for Trixie to hear Violet’s bullshit. 

“So,” she began, her voice clear over the chatter of the table. “Pink and fucking blonde, who would’ve guessed, huh, Zamo?” The table erupted into bits of laughter. 

_Oh. Apparently it could._

“Maybe she needed a cracker to cleanse her palate after having to deal with your sour face, Vi!” Bianca laughed. 

Violet shrugged nonchalantly, “at least it’s the face of an actual woman rather than a toy.” Brianna laughed. Trixie’s head played a mantra of _it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine_ on repeat.

“Guys, that joke got really old like, three hours, and I’m so done with it,” Adore groaned. She had eaten two slices of pizza and was on her third coke. The girl honestly looked so fucked out, but that might be because Bianca hadn’t ceased playing with her hair for the past hour. 

“Believe me, I’m _no_ toy, and if I were, I guess I’d be more like lego, infinitely complex and hurts like a motherfucker when you step on it barefoot,” Brianna laughed, the table laughed, Trixie took another drink of Kim’s wine. _How was that even remotely funny?_

“Okay, okay, okay,” Ru had splayed his hands out on the table. “Calm down, mama’s talking,” Ru smiled down at each end of the table before grabbing his wine glass. “This show has been a process,” Ru laughed, there was an echo of agreement from many in the cast. “But, I don’t think it could’ve come out much better, really. You know, when Georges and I opened this club, it wasn't much more than the little queer place around the corner,” he laughed fondly. “Michelle,” he placed a hand on her shoulder, “used to sing every weekend, and we had a couple of regulars. Then we had a few drag performers from around Boston come in and then… Katya.” He smiled at Katya briefly. “Slowly, we climbed. Slowly, we made our way to one of the most popular, one of the most mainstream spots in Boston. Granted, we opened this bitch in the late nineties, and its taken ten years, but… I’ve never been so content with this family.” He looked up and down the table. “I am so proud of each and everyone of you. Our old friends,” he winked at Adore, “and our new ones,” he raised his glass to Trixie. “No matter how they came to find their place here. You’re our family, now and for the long haul,” He gestured for everyone to raise their own glasses. Trixie raised her fucking iced tea. “So, I toast to us. To our future here at Jacques, to our friends and family. So can I get an amen up in hurr?” 

“Amen,” Katya echoed, followed by the rest of the group. Everyone took their sips, and there was a rare moment of contented silence. 

“Hey,” Trixie found Katya’s eyes, her heart calmer than it’s been all evening. “I’m so proud of you,” she smiled, and this time it was genuine.

Katya beamed at her. “Trixie, I--” she started.

“You guys really did an amazing job,” Brianna softly interjected, looking only at Katya, their fingers intertwined. The moment was somehow broken beyond repair.

“If anyone else has something to say…” Ru trailed off. 

Michelle gave a half-hearted shrug. “You know I’m a cold-hearted bitch with good intentions, okay? Violet, you’re still my least favorite, Aja, the wig you got for the show was completely flat, and Katya, you need to stop relying on that body,” Everyone, even Trixie burst into wild laughter. As the laughter faded, Kim released herself from Ron’s arms and gently pulled Trixie into hers.  
Her tired body melting into Kim’s embrace, Trixie looked around the table. Some moments may have been broken beyond repair; but different ones were forming in their place, creating a delicate web that won’t let her fall. This group, her chosen family; this was where she belonged. She has found her people. Even if she had to put up with Ron, Violet, or Karate Kid Barbie over there; Trixie Mattel had a place in the world, a soft spot to land.  
Her eyes meeting Katya’s, Trixie felt her heart stir.  
She probably should’ve said something, definitely should’ve but... Katya knew. She knew exactly what Trixie was trying to convey. Another little moment woven into the web; Katya’s gaze holding hers over Brianna’s head, not as close as Trixie was used to, but somehow intimate. It would have to be cherished, Trixie suddenly knew; what was once commonplace will now be sparse, consumed in little bits to last her for a long, long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #sorrynotsorry


	13. When Maintaining Barbie's Dream House Proves to be Too Difficult.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her thoughts had caught up. And they finally met their impasse, hanging dangerously at the tip of her tongue. The last bit of what she said playing at the tip of her lips, too unnerving to be spoken. Two weeks’ worth of words left her lips just then. Two weeks of telling herself she was petulant and pouty, and that she could and _would_ be okay with the new structure of their relationship. Even if she didn’t want their relationship to change in the first place. She was being far too much over something so insignificant, she knew that. She always had gravitated towards tantrum before reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaah, thirteen is FULLY my lucky number! But this! This is not a lucky chapter! Thank you guys so much for reading and feedback and love. It means the world to me and I really hope your opinions don't start to change /-\  
> Honestly, the amount of 'Is this going to end well at all?'-type-questions I got after twelve still makes me giggle! Yes, it's a Happy-Ending fic, I promise! You just gotta hold on<3 
> 
> Anyway, like I said, thank you for everything. Thank you especially to my beautiful beta [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/) who has helped make this fic everything I've ever wanted it to be. You're literally my guiding light and I love you, hoe!

Trixie missed Katya.

And that was absolutely absurd because Katya was never far away. They had rehearsals and shows together. They had their chats on their off-time, Katya was always just a phone call away. Occasionally, Katya would skip their lunch date for Brianna, but she still tried her best to keep up with Trixie.

And Trixie hated to admit it, but sometimes it didn’t feel that way. It didn’t feel like Katya’s best was _good enough_. Katya’s best was especially underwhelming as Trixie would sit alone at lunch in the dressing room, picking sadly at her noodles or salad, throat tight with hurt. Even _she_ knew it was pathetic. But she was already tired, losing weight with stress, sulky enough to contemplate moving back to Wisconsin. But that idea was always nixed as fast as it came. Boston made her happy… most of the time. The idea of leaving felt like letting Saltine win in a nonexistent fight that’d already been settled long ago when Trixie wasn’t paying attention. She couldn’t leave; even just for Katya, Trixie had to stay.

Eventually, they fell into a routine; it wasn’t as comfortable as it used to be, but within the space they allowed themselves, it was livable. Really, it wasn’t that bad: they would still laugh until they cried during rehearsal, causing Bianca to alternate between annoyed eyerolls to flat out death stares. Trixie still felt Katya’s arms around her neck, the air between them full to the brim. Her hand still looked for Katya’s during a quick costume change. It was familiar, warm, loving; their friendship had simply been intact.

Until Trixie would remember and pull away with a smile, knowing full well what Katya was about to say or do. Which was: “Brianna wrote an amazing article about Adrienne Rich and drag mothers, did you know that--” or “we were watching this Swedish film about teenage lesbians,” or the ever-dreaded, “we’d love for you to go out with us tonight, Brianna can’t shut up about how great you are.”

And she really, really wished Brianna would shut up about how great she was. So she would pull away with a sigh, pack her shit and go back to her hotel room, feeling abandoned and pouty and petulant by her own device. 

“I’m not gonna be at lunch again,” Katya said. Trixie was expecting it. They were sitting in their usual spot, knees touching. The only space between them occupied by the neck of Trixie’s guitar.

“Yeah,” she’d replied. She listened to Bianca yelling at Ginger onstage, tried to distract herself for just a second. But, she had to pretend to be interested, right? “…Where are you guys going?”

“Brianna wants to go to that little café on the corner,” Katya smiled up at Trixie, her eyes falling back and forth between Trixie’s face and the quiet strumming of her fingers on the guitar. “The place I took you to dinner like… I don’t know? A couple of months ago?”

Trixie hummed in understanding as she picked gently at the strings. Her melodies were random, quiet, but she couldn’t help but hear something in them. A new song was brewing at the tip of her mind, the tip of her fingers. She didn’t really care too pay too much attention to the conversation, anyway. Trixie hummed softly with her fingering, distracted until a hand clapped down on the neck. Katya’s short nails were wrapped around the neck of her guitar, and the sudden assault irritated Trixie.

“I’ve said your name three times,” Katya said with a laugh. She had scooted closer, Trixie noticed. “Anyone home up there?”

Trixie blinked, her brief irritation melting. “Sorry,” she said with a laugh. “I heard Brianna and—” she flailed her hand. “…tuned-out,” Katya laughed, her hand slipping from Trixie’s guitar and settling on Trixie’s knee. “I don’t really wanna hear about how good her hair smells or what foods she can’t eat,” she teased.

Katya laughed shortly. “I’m sorry! I like her! I’m not usually this lovestruck?— even with Violet, I still made time for Ginger, but Jesus, it’s so easy to lose track of time with her. Trixie, we can talk for _hours—_ ”

“Well, so can we. The only difference is I won’t let you eat me out,” Trixie nudged her. Katya burst into a wheezing laughter, her hand locking around Trixie’s thin wrist as she shook. She was laughing hard, it was nice to hear.

“If you would, Brianna wouldn’t even be on my radar,” Something serious hung on the  
edge of Katya’s tone, but Trixie chose to ignore it. It didn’t matter. Brianna was very much on _her_ radar.

“Stop talking like you have a chance,” Trixie sounded a little harsher than she would’ve hoped, but Katya laughed anyway and Trixie joined her. Katya wrapped her arm in Trixie’s, pried her manicured hand off the neck of the guitar just so Katya could hold it. Trixie gave her a teasing look before setting the guitar on the other side of her.

“Whatever you say,” Katya squeezed her hand. “How’d your beg session go with Ginger?” 

The night before, like an utter asshole, Trixie had sent a brief email to Ginger Minj with a rather small (huge) request. Trixie, who normally found herself cozied up onstage with her guitar, had found the perfect song for tonight’s tomorrow night’s show. And in all her grief, she couldn’t find anything but the sheet music. No chords, no tab, nothing. So, her ingenious solution? Email Ginger Minj at eleven PM with a plea from Jesus himself for him to learn the song. Sure, she had backup pieces, she could whip out a song five minutes before she got onstage, but wouldn’t have been satisfied. 

“He replied to my email with a picture of his middle finger,” Trixie laughed into her lap. “But he said he’ll see what he can do, I heard him running it before rehearsal started.” 

“He’s a good guy, and he loves a challenge, especially when it comes to performance,” Katya leaned up to fix a piece of Trixie’s hair. “It’s gonna be great.” 

“Mm, thanks,” Trixie smiled softly. There was a moment of silence, a pause between the two of them before Katya spoke up again. 

“You should come to lunch,” Katya offered, fiddling with the bracelets woven around Trixie’s wrist. “You’re Bri’s favorite.”

Trixie snorted because Brianna certainly wasn’t hers. “No, Adore and I are gonna go get pizza, I think.”

Katya fiddled with the ties on Trixie’s friendship bracelet, one Pearl had given to her years ago. It was frayed, faded, but she never stopped wearing it. Katya manipulated the tie out of it. “You guys really clicked, huh?”

She and Adore _had_ gotten close. Trixie couldn’t help but dread the idea of her leaving. She hadn’t set a date to fly back to California; in fact, Adore seemed absolutely determined to sleep on Bianca’s fold out sofa until her dying day, or until the day she gets promoted to Bianca’s bed - whichever came first.

Trixie had no qualms about that plan. Adore was almost as easy to talk to as Katya. So understanding, so non-judgemental, and so fucking dumb. She made Trixie laugh. All the time. If Trixie wasn’t laughing with Katya, she was laughing with Adore. They spoke about Bianca, they spoke a little about Katya (okay, _a lot_ about Katya). They spoke about anything they absolutely could. 

In fact, Adore had gotten Trixie to just spill her guts. She vented with the blue haired girl for almost three hours one day. And she told her about how she felt about Brianna. How she felt about Katya always being so occupied. In hindsight, it wasn't her best moment, but Adore understood. Adore went to lengths to comfort and help her. 

Adore had popped into her life at just the right time. Maybe she would get even closer to her than she has to Katya… after all, Katya didn’t even tell her she had feelings for someone! Katya didn’t ever mention Cracker, not once. And here, Adore and Trixie had bonded over the simplest of things, things she didn’t have in common with Katya. Up and until their meeting, Katya hardly said a word about Brianna. Adore? Trixie knew more about Bianca than she ever hoped, dreamed, or even wanted to know. And she’s known Adore for, what? Two, maybe three weeks? 

“We have so much in common,” Trixie said with a smile. “Looks like someone’s coming for your gig.”

Katya sat up at that. “No one is going to take my gig,” she said firmly. There was a small, assured smile on her lips.

“Mm, I don’t know…” Trixie tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, her smile knowing. “WeHo sounds pretty nice… and she’s not old, _like you_.”

Katya laughed, her face painted in a mock pained expression. “You’ll leave me and Bianca pining.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and _you_ have Brianna. She kinda stole my gig, anyway,” Trixie suppressed the bitter edge she so _badly_ wanted to inflict into her words.

“Oh, shut up,” Katya re-secured the knot in Trixie’s bracelet. “She did _not_.”

Trixie scoffed, tried to make it sound playful. “Everyone else sure thinks so,” she punctuated her words with a rather forceful smile. “You should hear them.” 

“They’re still on that?” Katya rolled her eyes. “Yes, you two are… kinda similar. I just have good taste in women,” she teased, wrapping her arm around Trixie’s waist and pulling her closer to her. She looked into Trixie’s eyes, her expression suddenly serious. “And you’re my woman, my _original_ woman,” she said, tone almost possessive.

“Ugh, I barely want to be your friend.”

Katya tossed her head back in laughter and let go of Trixie, her legs kicking from her excitement.

“Trixie!” Adore leaned over one of the tables and looked down at the duo. “Bea wants you to run your song now.”

“Thanks,” Trixie pushed herself to stand, grabbed her guitar, and helped Katya up as well. Adore climbed off the table and gave a bright smile to the both of them.

“And are we still going out later? I’m fucking starved, I’ll be dead by the time you finish running your song,” she asked Trixie. 

“You’ll survive, I’ll be done in 15 and then we can leave,” Trixie tossed her guitar-strap over her head.

“Oh, oh good, I didn’t know if Katya and you—” 

“Mattel! Let’s go, we’re on a sched—" Bianca called from her place in the booth.

“I’m getting her, I swear!” Adore whined, giving Bianca a pout.

Bianca’s eyes softened for a moment too long before she seemed to realize she was staring. “Fine, whatever, but if she’s not here in five, I’m gonna replace her eye makeup remover with hyaluronic acid.”

Trixie and Katya shared a knowing glance, a small smirk. Katya slung a lazy arm over Trixie’s shoulders, smiling at Adore. 

Trixie scoffed. “Why am I getting punished for Adore’s inability to do a job?” Her tone was rather playful, but Adore still seemed scandalized. 

“Uhm, that’s rude. Trixie, we’re best friends, how could you speak to me that way?” 

“Best friend? That title role has been _filled_ , mama. By one, Miss Russian Hooker,” Katya exaggerated her accent and pointed to herself as if to emphasize her point. 

Adore puckered her pretty lips, they were overlined in one of her neutral colors. “Katya, I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but I snatched that, bitch. Ask her.”

“Eh, I’m just here for your guys’ money,” Trixie tossed her hair while Katya boomed with laughter. 

Adore tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, okay, say you and Katya are closer, but _I_ don’t _ditch_ you for knock-off!”

Katya’s face shifted in misunderstanding. “Knock-off?”

Trixie made a ‘you-better-shut-the-fuck-up-face’ to Adore, but it was far too late. Yes, Trixie had told her she felt a little ditched, dumped for… well, she wanted to say lesser-version of herself, but Brianna was much more in-tune with Katya’s type. And Adore understood, could see what Trixie was feeling and in attempt to make her feel better, Adore had come up with ‘knock-off Barbie’ and they ran with it. It was innocent, really. Adore was just trying to make Trixie feel better, an inside joke between friends… But even still, Trixie had _no_ intention to tell Katya.

“We call her knock-off Barbie,” Adore replied with a grin. Trixie choked, choked out-loud, watched in horror as the smile on Adore’s lips never budged. “Brianna, your girlfriend?” Trixie thought she could feel the air drain from the room, any minute, she’d be collapsed on the floor from the loss of oxygen. She was already losing brain-cells. Katya’s smile faded into confusion. It was as if what Katya had heard had put her in a pause, a heavy, pregnant pause. And then she spoke, disbelievingly.

“...wait,” Her tone acknowledged every bit of Trixie’s fear. And on top of that, she had taken her arm away. Trixie felt cold. “Wait, you call her _what_?”

“Katya, it’s--” Trixie held her hands up in defense.

“Knock-Off-Barbie,” Adore replied. “’Cause Trixie is Barbie and Brianna’s… like, a little copy. Just like not-as-great— well, not like that, that sounds a little mean,” Adore pondered for a moment. Trixie willed her to stop speaking. “But, ehm— they’re similar, right? And Trixie’s kind of the better Barbie, the first Barbie. Part of our family, right? S’really great, and Brianna, she’s like—”

“Adore, stop,” Trixie wrapped a hand around Adore’s thin wrist, clenched it imploringly. Her voice was oddly calm, especially considering the storm of emotions in her chest. She hadn’t stopped looking at Katya, watching her face for any kind of sign, any kind vestige of what was next to come.

And Katya stared right back.

Trixie felt fire underneath Katya’s completely unforgiving eyes. She could see the weight of what Adore had just confessed settle in Katya’s gaze, her face. Pain, anger too, had established itself in her features. Trixie felt her chest constrict tightly, tighter. The way it’d constrict at some person’s irrelevant side-comment about her even if she’d found the strength bite back. It was tense, inhibiting her speech for far too long of a moment.

“I’m so sorry—” Trixie began, thankful for this being the stream of words to leave her mouth first. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Adore and I were just—”

Katya was the first to look away, to shake her head into the distance across the club. “Didn’t mean anything? Trixie, you haven’t liked her since the moment Brianna walked in here,” Katya had faced her again, her voice, also, surprisingly calm. Conversational, even. “What did she do to _you_ , hm? Is there something— something I missed?”

Trixie was speaking without thinking now. The words passing her lips faster than she could even process them. In hindsight, they made no sense, had no reliable context. But between her and Katya, it was all of the sense she could make of the situation. “You didn’t tell me,” she accused quietly, the only excuse she had. “You didn’t even _mention_ that you had something so fucking serious going on in your life, Katya.”

Katya opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. “… that’s not what this is about, Trixie. And we talked about it already.”

“It’s exactly what this is about, Katya. It’s about you barely giving any of yourself to me, and me giving all of myself —” She was speaking so evenly. Even though thunder was cracking behind her words, her tongue moving faster, quicker than her thoughts could catch up in regret.

“Trixie—” Katya tried to halt her as if she knew everything that Trixie was about to say was going to be regretted. By both of them.

“— to you! And then, Katya, you turn around and give it to my half-assed-carbon-copy-Karate-Kid-twin and expect me to be okay with the—”

_Be okay with the fact that it’s not me._

Her thoughts had caught up. And they finally met their impasse, hanging dangerously at the tip of her tongue. The last bit of what she said playing at the tip of her lips, too unnerving to be spoken. Two weeks’ worth of words left her lips just then. Two weeks of telling herself she was petulant and pouty, and that she could and _would_ be okay with the new structure of their relationship. Even if she didn’t want their relationship to change in the first place. She was being far too much over something so insignificant, she knew that. She always had gravitated towards tantrum before reason.

Katya looked borderline incredulous by something anyone could hardly call an outburst. She was too calm for that. Calmer than she thought she should’ve been. She didn’t yell, neither did Katya, Adore was a calm bystander as well. Although, she’d stopped popping her gum and was looking at Trixie a little slack-jawed. The urge to run was overwhelming. But she wasn’t going to, not from Katya. Not from _this_ because _this_ was far too important. All she had ever succeeded in was running, and running from Katya? Out of the question.

Katya licked her lips, looked like she was quietly pondering. “I don’t owe you any part of myself, Trixie,” she was speaking just as calmly as Trixie had. “And I can’t believe you would—” Katya huffed, blinked a few times with her averted eyes. “I’m gonna go hang out in the dressing room for a while.”

“Katya—” Trixie took one step forward, Katya took one back.

“Just— don’t, Trixie. Don’t.”

✘✘✘

“Have you ever watched _Next_?” Adore asked, one hand tangled in her blue hair, the other shoving a slice of pizza in her mouth.

Trixie cracked a brief smile, the first in a few hours. “The show on MTV? Duh.”

After her fight with Katya, Trixie had left rehearsal, hid in the customer bathroom and tried not to cry. Every inch of her felt tired. Like some invisible bind, a lifeline had been cut and ripped violently from her chest, her heart. She was in leggings and a sweatshirt (Katya’s sweatshirt; she’d started wearing it out of spite), and yet she thought she would freeze. Every inch of her chest, arms, legs, was chilled by the weight of her guilt. Katya’s disappointment weighed on her chest like a fucking dumbbell.

She didn’t cry, just sat hunched on the toilet, her eyes closed, her breathing struggling to steady itself. _Fucking Brianna._ With her pretty teeth and happy eyes that made Trixie want to throw up. Those eyes that looked at Katya like she was the only girl in the world. The way she and Katya used to look at one another. The way Katya barely fucking looked at her now.

Adore sat outside the stall with her, talked Trixie down from an absolute meltdown. Insisted they should go get food, insisted that she would handle Bianca’s impending anger over her disappearance. Trixie took little prying, her stomach rumbling, her headlight, and Adore. Adore, who despite ruining things, was just not someone anyone, let alone Trixie, could be upset with. Especially with how apologetic she was, how caring and kind with Trixie she had been since they met.

Adore laughed. She knew it was another well-placed attempt to make Trixie feel a little better. “One bus! Five daters! They’ll get cash for every minute they last! The one that makes it to the end will choose—”

Trixie’s smile broke a little further. “Either go on a second date or _take the money_!”

Adore gently smacked Trixie’s arm, exposed, cold in her pink tank top. She’d shed Katya’s sweatshirt almost an hour ago, left it at the bottom of her dance bag, unseen. “Oh, bitch, I would’ve killed to get hooked up on that show, you know? Shame it’s canceled.”

“Not a shame,” Trixie assured with a short laugh, shoveling a few noodles from her dinner in her mouth. “Don’t you remember the assholes they put on it?” Trixie adopted an overly masculine voice, straightened her back up for Adore. “Jett, 23, lives with his mom, cleans his dick every two weeks, swears he saw Jesus in his poop—” Adore burst into loud laughter, doubled over their food, nearly getting her hair in pizza sauce if it wasn’t for Trixie’s quick hands. “Oh— oh— oh— do you watch _Parental Control_?” she gasped.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Trixie set her food aside. “Adore, that show was my fucking _nightmare_.”

“And Cribs, Cribs! I fucking _love_ MTV cribs!” Adore tossed her pretty hair back behind her shoulder.

Trixie pressed her back against the foot of the couch, her legs splayed out as she rested her bowl of noodles on her thighs. “My parents didn’t really like Cribs… or… like, any of MTV. But my friend Pearl and I used to watch it all the time when we’d smoke in her basement,” Trixie laughed a little at the memories. “She was my best friend in Wisconsin...” Trixie cleared her throat, face falling a little. “She hasn’t texted me for a while, but you know, shit gets busy… I wasn’t being… the greatest friend ever. The show got so busy—” 

“She probably has as much work as you do,” Adore quipped softly. “You’re too fucking cool to, just like, abandon, or whatever.” 

“Tell that to Katya.” 

Adore set her pizza back on the box it came in. “You dumb bitch, Katya is not going to abandon you. I didn’t even think the whole ‘Knock-Off’ thing was that bad,” she scooted her butt beside Trixie’s wrapped an easy arm over her shoulders. “You guys are like, destined, you know? To be whatever the hell you are.”

“She’s my best friend,” Trixie said softly. “I’ve never clicked with someone—” 

“Except for me—” Adore nudged Trixie’s thigh. “Trixie, just… forget about it! Katya always fucking comes around, that pussy. Plus, she’s like, totally in love with you—” 

“Who, Katya?” Bianca appeared in the doorway, her hands full of new costumes strung on hangers. “Yeah, I don’t care who this new girl is,” she continued. “She still looks at you like you hung the fucking moon.” 

“Bea!” Adore lilted. “How’d you know we were talking about that?” 

“Because you’re loud and I heard ‘in love’ and ‘Trixie’,” Bianca began hanging the pieces on the costume rack, one by one. 

“Wait, sorry, Katya’s not— I mean, you’ve seen the way she looks at Kno— Brianna, right?” Trixie queried, a little alarmed. 

“Yeah, triple that on you, and you have yourself a Russian hooker. It’s disgusting,” Bianca commented. 

“I think it’s cute,” Adore whined. “She’s kissing frogs until she gets to Trixie!” 

“She’s not going to ‘get’ to me—” Trixie commented, punctuating her words with a heavy gesture. “I’m straight.” 

Adore paused. “…uh, yeah. Forgot.” 

“Katya’s disgusting and you’re _dumb_ , Mattel,” Bianca said, tossing the last dress onto the rack. She moved across the room, picked up some shoes, discarded garbage. Her face rather repulsed by the state of the room. Trixie couldn’t say she blamed her. 

“No, what’s disgusting is the way _you_ look at Adore,” Trixie insisted. She sat back against the couch, blinking a few times as if that would clear her head. Katya didn’t like her. Not like _that_. And Trixie didn’t feel that way either. Friends. All they’ve ever needed to be was best friends. Affectionate, playful, stupid friends.  
When you spend as much time with Katya as Trixie has, you get close. Katya was infectious, Trixie was the moth to Katya’s flame. They fit, like two odd, jagged puzzle pieces. They were a dynamic duo, one never without the other… well, except for lately. Except for now.  
Trixie swallowed the thought. 

“If she looks at me so disgustingly, why hasn’t she fucked me yet?” Adore rolled her eyes. “Do you believe that Trixie?” 

“You know why, Adore. And I’m busy, I have to get everything ready before Ru leaves. The schedule, the theme-nights, the queue, and I want some semblance of goddamn organization in this place—” 

“Ru’s leaving?” Trixie rubbed her head. 

“Georges takes him on vacation for like a week on his birthday. They used to close the club, but my Willow decided to take over and be responsible,” Adore nudged her toes against the edge of Bianca’s ankle where she was standing before them. “So, she gets to run the club while we party!” 

“We don’t _party_ ,” Bianca rolled her eyes and sat on the couch, her legs resting beside Adore. “It’s work, just… we’re short one very important set of hands,” Bianca finally joined them, but on the couch rather than the floor. “I figured Katya would’ve filled you in.” 

“They’re having a fight,” Adore said, tucking a piece of Trixie’s hair behind her ear. 

“No thanks to you,” Trixie assured. 

“I said I was sorry like twelve times! I thought she’d _laugh_!” Adore whined, dropping her hands ungraciously into her lap. 

“Oh, Chola, what the fuck did you do? I saw the both of you storm out of rehearsal today— remind me to beat your ass, Trixie— what happened?” Bianca tangled her fingers in Adore’s hair, picked at the pretty blue pieces that had fallen out of her braids. 

“It was an accident!” Adore leaned her head on Bianca’s knee. “Trixie and I have a fun little nickname for Brianna and— and I told Katya what it was!”

“What was it?” Bianca asked skeptically. 

“Um,” Adore started, looking particularly sheepish for the first time since everything happened, “Knock-Off-Barbie.” 

Bianca burst in joyous, loud laughter, her head tossed back over the couch. “Oh, my God! That’s great! And… kind of true—” 

Adore pursed her lips at Trixie. “Oh, maybe it is pretty mean…” 

“Of course it's mean!” Trixie said, exasperated. “Especially if Bianca thinks it’s funny!” Trixie rested her face in her hands. “It was so fucking stupid! She’s so fucking stupid, Brianna and her—” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bianca placed a hand on Trixie’s shoulder. “Listen, Katya’s gonna get over it, okay? She’s gonna get over Brianna. That girl has never been in a relationship more than two months tops—other than with Violet and—” Bianca huffed. “We all know how _that_ went.” 

Adore rubbed Trixie’s shoulder blade. “Seriously, this is why we need this party, Bea,” Adore shifted, this time resting her head on Trixie’s shoulder. “I’ve been trying to get Bianca to throw a party after the Saturday night show while Ru’s gone, but she won’t have it.” 

“What kind of party?” Trixie asked. 

“Any kind! Bianca’s place is so killer!” Adore laughed. 

“Killer _clean_ and _neat_ and no place for you bitches to trash,” Bianca said firmly. “Adore, I told you if you wanted to have a party, you’ll need to find somewhere else to do it.” 

Adore jutted her lip. “Bianca— I wanna have it with you, with Sammy and Dede!”

Trixie glanced at Bianca, then Adore. “Don’t worry, we can have a welcome home party for you at my hotel room, Adore.” 

“A welcome home party?” Bianca crossed her legs and glanced briefly at Adore, whose head had lulled forward. Bianca was scratching delicately at the nape of Adore’s neck with her nails, as if she were a kitten. “Fuck, alright. Alright, the Saturday night after Ru leaves, my place—but I don’t want everyone’s shit everywhere. I don’t people fucking on my furniture—” Adore yelped, launched herself into Bianca’s lap and placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek. 

“Thank, baby! Bea, you’re the best!” she wrapped her arms around Bianca, who was looking rather pleased with herself… even just for a moment. She returned Adore’s embrace. “And Trixie can come over and help us get all set up and ready, right? Right? Oh my _God_ , do you think Alaska can get his hands on some weed?” 

Bianca sighed. “I don’t want my apartment to smell like—” 

“And beer, Bianca, you’ll have to get beer. And we can all bring snacks, play music, dance and look all hot, and oh my _God_ , I’m so fucking excited!” Adore droned on… and on… _and on_. Bianca looked positively smitten with her, the way she talked. And eventually, as much as Trixie loved them both, she needed to move away. There were too many heart-eyes, too many tender strokes, and frankly, Trixie just— needed it out of her head. Immediately. 

But her saving grace was upon her. The cast started filing in for showtime, beginning their processes for the show. Trixie slid into her little stool and leaned into the mirror as she began her own steps into makeup. The room filled with soft banter, laughter, and music from Aja’s speakers resting on the end of the counter.  
Ten, maybe fifteen minutes passed, everyone was in the room. Everyone besides Katya, whose spot remained empty beside Trixie. She tried to ignore it, ignore the implications, and how maybe… just maybe Katya was avoiding her. Trixie swiped her eyeliner with careful hands as her stomach churned and churned. She promised the second Katya sat down in the dressing room, she was going to apologize again. And again. And again, until Katya understood, even briefly, how God-awful she felt. She was more than at fault here, and Adore, too, yes, but Trixie condoned the behavior, played along. She sucked in a wad of air before working on her eyeliner. She was going to fix things with Katya. And things could be okay. And Trixie could keep her mouth shut, from now on. A lesson well learned.  
And she was doing so well! Trixie had calmed herself, was able to focus on music, on makeup, and even interject a few one-liners into the group conversation. Until… 

Until Katya sauntered in. Her neck was littered in purple and red splotches, her hair fucked-out in several different angles.

“Sorry I‘m late, bitches,” she grinned devilishly. Trixie’s jaw tightened. “Was just a _tad_ busy.” 

“Ouch! I didn’t know Crackers bit back,” Aja laughed from his vanity. He was putting on the last of his lipstick. “God, you look so _fucked_ , sis…” 

“Care to hear the gory details?” Katya draped herself over the makeup counter, a small open spot beside Aja. “Because this could rank as best sex of my life!”

“Spare us the horror story,” Ginger tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. “We hear enough about Chi Chi’s dick, we don’t need to hear about Brianna’s pussy.”

Katya sat back up, strutted over to her seat beside Trixie, and practically laid herself out on her stool. “What can I say? Brianna finds me ir-re-sis-tible,” Katya stretched her arms out behind her head, gave Ginger the most disgustingly smug look ever to exist on the face of the earth. “She’s the _real deal_ —” 

Trixie sucked in a deep breath and calmed herself before refocusing on her makeup. She had to apologize, she couldn’t get upset now, because it was up to _her_ to fix this. Thankfully, that was the last of their mention of Brianna, and Trixie could live with that. 

Katya, _finally_ turned towards the mirror, began working on her same smokey eye, her same red lip as always. She didn’t even glance at Trixie beside her. Trixie wondered briefly is she really was the petulant one in this relationship.  
Trixie dropped steadily out of the conversation, while Katya threw herself in. She shouted things past Trixie’s head, laughed her loud, endless laugh. It was disappointing how hard Trixie had to try not to join in. And Katya had been so distracted that she was barely halfway through her makeup when Trixie was almost finished securing her hair. 

“So,” Katya asked flatly, finally. “How’d your rehearsal go?” she was spinning on her stool. 

“It didn’t,” Trixie said. “I left.” 

“Why?” Katya spared a peep in Trixie’s direction, but her face didn’t change. 

“Well, not to go fuck my girlfriend,” Trixie said with a soft laugh. It was forced, but hey, she didn’t sound bitter. “I wasn’t feeling great.” 

Katya huffed through her nose. “Can’t imagine what you were feeling bad about,” Her tone was shit. Trixie heard her fucking shitty tone. 

“Bianca, Adore, and I are throwing a party,” she replied quickly before anything else could slip out of her mouth. “You and Brianna should come. The Saturday after Ru leaves, at Bianca’s.” 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Katya,” Trixie began. “I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but you have to know I’m sorry—” 

“I don’t really wanna talk about this, right now, Trixie,” Katya swiped some more eyeshadow over her lid. 

Trixie pressed further. “I just want to clear the air with us, Kat,” Trixie placed a soft hand on Katya’s knee. “I miss you, I feel like you’re not all here a lot of the time and... “ Trixie huffed a little. “We can just… not talk about it, about her--” 

Katya set her brush down, finally turned to face Trixie. She looked restrained, exhausted, so different from moments ago. “God— can I just have five minutes to myself when someone isn’t breathing down my goddamn neck about her? She makes me fucking _happy_ , Trixie? Okay? I’m sorry that’s too _fucking_ much for you!” 

Trixie opened her mouth to respond, her jaw locking in a sort of shocked expression. She felt Katya doesn’t snap, much less at her. “Yeah, totally. I’ll just… shut up,” Trixie grabbed her hairspray and began her finishing touches. 

“Trixie—"

“I think the party’s gonna be right after the show. Just bring some stupid Russian snack,” Trixie laughed tearfully. “And, uh, something for Brianna. I know there’s some, like, limitations for Jewish people, right?” 

“Trixie, I’m—” 

“Anyway, tell her I’m _so_ excited to see her. Tell her to wear pink. Because I’ll be wearing pink. First thing you noticed,” Trixie smiled, big and crooked, like when she laughs. “Uh, yeah, I’m sorry—” Trixie turned to face her, rose from her stool while Katya looked at her tenderly. “I’m glad she makes you happy.” 

Trixie rose from her seat and circled down to Ginger’s station, placing her hands on his broad shoulders. He was applying a bit of concealer when his eyes flicked up to Trixie. 

“Bianca has the piano set, I wanted to run _your_ song, but you went MIA in rehearsal, girl,” he said gruffly. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I won’t be mad if you don’t wanna do this with me--” Trixie was wringing her hands. Ginger’s eyes flicked from her face to Trixie’s restless movement. 

“It’s a pretty song. And I have it done, we might as well after the hell you put me through--” Ginger had a hint of a smile on his face. “I think we’re gonna sound good.”

“I’ll return the favor, I promise,” Trixie wrapped her arms around Ginger’s shoulders in an awkward-half-reciprocated hug. “I gotta finish getting ready, I’ll meet you back there before our entrance.”

“Yeah, uh, Trixie?” he spun in his stool, faced Trixie with a much softer expression. “Listen, Katya told me what's going on,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I won’t give ya a hard time, just know that… she’s hurt. And she’ll let it go, but Katya needs time when she’s hurt.” 

Trixie bit the tip of her tongue. Her chest constricted at the idea of everyone knowing, but… it didn't really matter, did it? She sucked in a deep breath, nodded to Ginger and headed to the clothing rack. 

Trixie rummaged through the plethora of costumes, and at the last minute, swiped a translucent, blue, mini-dress. The color was a little different than she would normally go. But, this song was different, she felt different, so why couldn’t her clothes be, too? She grabbed a pair of white cowgirl boots that she kept stock beneath her makeup station. Katya didn’t say a word to her, even when she had to push one of the Russian’s legs aside to retrieve them. As she began to change, Adore wrapped both arms around Trixie’s middle and giggled. 

“So everyone’s coming to the party! I just spread that shit like wildfire,” she said proudly. “D’ya ask Katya?” her eyes flicked to the Russian, barely five feet away from them. 

“I think she’s coming, too,” Trixie said softly. Adore turned Trixie to face her, two delicate hands encircling Trixie’s cold arms. 

“…Are you okay?” she said. Her tone had softened, her face too. And Trixie was more thankful for Adore Delano than she ever thought possible. Trixie smiled, patted the side of Adore’s face and finished putting on her boots.

“I love you, Adore.” 

Adore just beamed. “I love you, too!” she wrapped her arms around Trixie, squeezed in one, last hug and flounced off to Bianca. “Told you she likes me more, Katya!”

✘✘✘

“So, uhm, I know I usually play some country for you guys— which, what am I thinking? I’m in fucking Boston for Christ’s sake,” The audience graced with small laughter, Trixie thought her comment was funnier than they gave her credit for. “Oh, sorry, hope there’s no one _too_ religious in here, in this gay club,” Trixie cleared her throat into the mic, the main spot nearly blocking the entire audience out of her vision. She was grateful for it. Her eyes found Ginger’s, he was resting patiently at the piano. “I know, a lot of things are different tonight, different for me. I’m in blue, I don’t have my guitar, hey, maybe I’ll shave my head amidst a breakdown, who knows,” Trixie laughed boomingly. “So, big thanks to Ginger for accompanying me after I forced him to learn this song in a night--” Trixie didn’t really know where to place her hands, void of a guitar and an autoharp made her feel so vulnerable. “I think this song is… is really great and expressive and… it’s an ode to my messy-ass life. Here’s _Momentum_ , originally sung by Vienna Teng.” 

Trixie missed Katya.  
But it felt far more like an ache, a need. Sure, she had Adore, and Adore was being so wonderful and kind. But, it was like a sense of humor was gone from her life, like that _one_ person got her, got the irony, had disappeared. Her fingers felt hollow on the mic. For a moment, she wished she had her guitar. 

_“Why am I walking barefoot,_  
_Upon this road with no one around,_  
_I close my eyes to this decision,_  
_The night's like coffee to my tongue…_

Trixie took a deep breath in the soft instrumental break. Ginger was playing near perfectly, now.. She willed herself to not look into the wings where Katya was waiting to come on. Where she knew Katya was hearing every word. She didn’t, however, stop herself from spotting Brianna sitting at one of the front tables. She was watching Trixie with a bright smile. Her hair was a little straighter tonight, pulled into a high ponytail. 

_…Like waking up without a sound,_  
_I map the words out,_  
_Maybe you will say them..._

Trixie licked her lips. She worried the pace of the song would have the audience lost, but that didn’t seem to be the case. The people she _could_ see were all watching her attentively, enjoyably. Another heavy breath passed her lips, this time in careful relief. 

_...Would you help me rise up,_  
_Touch my face and watch me try to breathe again,_  
_Would you let me do this,_  
_Burn down the final wall…_

_Overcome me, baby,_  
_Overcome me, baby,_  
_Overcome me, baby,_  
_Overcome me, yeah,_  
_All I'm asking is to be alive for once…_

Trixie took a deep breath between verses, her eyes falling closed as she wrapped her lips around each word. She didn’t need maximum focus right now, but she had it. She had her mind clear of everything but the importance of the moment. 

_…I come to you in friendship,_  
_And hold my breath against the snow,_  
_What are you thinking as I gaze into you..._

When she opened them, they were locked on Katya’s blue eyes, looking carefully dispassionate. But Katya didn’t look away, not for a second. 

_…Forgive me the confusion,_  
_Forgive me as I realize my thoughts betrayed,_

And then her eyes were gone. Katya was gone, having walked somewhere else in the wing. 

_…Overcome me, baby,_  
_Overcome me, baby,_  
_Overcome me, baby,_  
_Overcome me, yeah,_  
_All I'm asking is to be alive for once.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, come see me! Send anons, drop in my IMs, I love talking to each and every one of your sweet faces!! But pls don't get offended if I don't reply. I truly am the worst with keeping up in my messages, just harass me into conversation<3  
> [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)


	14. A Literal Shit Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adore’s breaths were a little shaky, but other than that, she seemed fine. Her voice sounded stunning, crystal clear; but Trixie thought it always did. She envied Adore’s ability to riff, to belt beautiful notes on a moment’s whim. Even if Adore was the better singer, they both sounded good together. Their harmonies were solid. Trixie was glad she talked Adore into them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! A mere six days later! Okay, so if you follow my Tumblr, you'll know that I've been saying that I wasn't gonna post for a while... but being that today is Bianca del Rio's birthday (and there's a LOT of Bianca in this one), I posted early! So, Happy Birthday, Bianca!!! ;) ;) ;)  
> I...really hope y'all don't hate me. lmao. But you're probably gonna cry again.  
> ....Happy Birthday, Bianca!!!  
> I have to say, your feedback, especially on the last chapter, has done a wonderful number on me, I wanna thank each and every one of you for that. Please keep it coming!!!  
> Come find me [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)! I answer questions, flirt with my beta, and talk endlessly about Trixie & Katya.  
> Or! Come find my beta, [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/) and watch her emotionally abuse me into writing! <3

“Trixie, trust me! It’s E and then G-sharp-minor! I wrote the fucking song!” Adore scrabbled at Trixie’s hands which were lazily gripping her guitar. The blonde burst into mirthful laughter at Adore’s childish frustration. It was the night of the party, and tensions were running high. 

“Oh my God, G sharp minor, you’re a goddamn cunt!” Trixie hissed playfully. She laid her fingers as Adore requested and began alternating between the two previously mentioned chords. “Why did I agree to do a song with you tonight?”

“Because you love me, duh, and I’m great,” Adore crowded in Trixie’s space, interrupting her playing by placing her hands over the strings. “You gotta play that longer—”

“Adore,” she said firmly. “I know how it goes, we listened to it all night, remember?” To demonstrate, Trixie began to play softly. “ _This is how it ends, never meant to hurt you…_ ” Trixie exaggerated her progression for Adore to see. “ _I’m a pretty mess and I don’t deserve you…_ ”

“Okay, okay, okay! And you have the hook, right? _’Cause every time I see you—_ ” Adore made a frantic gesture.

“ _It’s like all I am is see-through!_ Yes, Adore, yes!” Trixie assured brightly. “I know my harmonies, I know the words, your song is fantastic—”

“I just want this to be good! It’s gotta be _so_ good! I haven’t seen these people in like a year and—” Adore flapped her hands nervously, and Trixie already knew her well enough to know that it wasn’t about this at all.

“It’s gonna be amazing. This song is really, really good!” Trixie assured.

Adore wrapped Trixie in an abrupt, but lengthy embrace. She buried her face in Trixie’s blonde curls, clung to Trixie in a way that undoubtedly had Trixie’s guitar crushing Adore’s ribs. Trixie, reluctantly melted into it, although she was unsure why. The smell of Adore’s shampoo filled her nostrils, and Trixie found herself tracing reassuring circles over the other girl’s back. The only other person she was comfortable hugging like this was Katya, and everyone knew that hadn’t been the case since their fall out a few days ago. In fact, Trixie and Katya had barely spoken to one another.

And maybe that wasn’t entirely Katya’s fault.  
Since this whole Brianna thing began, Adore had been a reliable shoulder to lean on. And, in that time, Trixie had become fast friends with her. It was as if Katya had slipped away at the perfect time. If Trixie didn’t have Adore, she’d be falling apart. But the musician had been the perfect replacement, just like Brianna.  
There had been a few attempts on Katya’s end to talk to Trixie, but every time, she would be busy with Adore. Learning music, going out to eat, doing all the things she’d been too busy to do with others when she was still friends with Katya. And vice versa. Trixie attempted at a conversation, but it would be brief, and Katya would be off to find Brianna. They were still friends. Just friends who didn’t talk, or hang out, or laugh together, anymore.  
And Trixie missed her, of course, missed her when she’d be curled up in bed, her fingers scrolling restlessly over Katya’s name on her phone. Sometimes she’d get so far to type ‘I miss you’ in the text box. But then she’d remember that Katya was probably out with Brianna, and it was enough for her to close the phone and bide her waking hours with something else.

“Thank you,” Adore said softly. She slid back off of Trixie, rubbed at the front of her ribcage probably from the guitar’s indent. “This is going to be so fucking good and I’m so glad it’s gonna be with you!” She screeched excitedly, punctuating the words with laughter.

“You bitches kept me up half the night with your fucking laughter, can I have a moment of peace, _today_?” Bianca rubbed at her head. She was makeup-less, looking more frazzled than usual. Trixie felt a pang of guilt. She had spent the night at Bianca’s, helping decorate, snack-prep, and clean the already impeccable apartment for their party. And once they were done, Trixie and Adore spent the entire night crashed on Bianca’s couch, flicking through her movies and playing with Sammy and Dede. 

It was a great night. Adore had even shown Trixie a few pieces she had (and hadn’t) recorded back in WeHo. Trixie was surprised to find how much she liked them. They veered drastically from her own tastes but were lovely. Especially the ones written for Bianca; but Adore was very adamant about not letting Bianca know they were about her. Not yet. She may have been very straightforward with her intents, but the deeper, more complex feelings were still kept at bay. And Trixie knew that, while Adore really had wanted to impress everyone at the cabaret, her stress had everything to do with having Bianca listen to one of those songs for the very first time. And Adore _needed_ her to pay attention.

Bianca, on her part, was under more stress than Trixie had seen since Rocky Horror. Ru leaving took far more of a toll on her than Trixie ever thought it would. Ru might not be around all that often, but he clearly did much more than Trixie saw. Bianca had spent the last almost-week frantic. She had the week’s worth of show preparations only half-finished. Trixie wished she could be of more service, but Bianca was very touchy sometimes, she liked things organized, near perfect, and Trixie couldn't blame her.  
She knew the following week would be even worse. Not only would Ru be gone, but he had scheduled a their annual Winter Burlesque Night, something Trixie was looking less and less forward to. That required a whole new set of costumes, feathers, glitters, heals, and all new sets of music. Trixie was supposed to have her songs picked out for Monday, but truthfully, she hadn't even thought of one. The idea of lingerie, partial stripping, and sexy dancing was not… something Trixie was elated by. She’d never been one to show off her physique, and to have to present it, was a whole other ballgame. But she couldn't ask for any kind of exemption. She knew that would stress Bianca beyond belief, and she didn't need Trixie’s baggage on top of everything else.  
Even today was a fight for Bianca, they didn’t have call time until 5:30, but Bianca had spent the morning running about the club with Ron. Organizing, cleaning, inventory, everything. Trixie thought it was probably good that she took over the ultimate ‘caretaking’ of Toddler Delano because she knew, especially with Bianca, Adore could be… distracting. 

“Sorry, Willow, I’ll eat you out to make it better?” Adore offered, sounding _far_ too innocent. 

“ _Adore,_ ” Bianca sounded exasperated, and at the same time utterly exhausted. Staving Adore off, especially when she was staying at her fucking apartment, was proving to be a very difficult task for Bianca.

“Bianca, are you _sure_ we can’t help you guys?” Trixie had asked (for the second time that afternoon). “It’s no big deal, I can do inventory, or help Ron with sound,” Trixie set her guitar aside. “Anything in the dressing room?”

“Yeah, baby. Lemme help, too!” Adore was beaming optimistically. “I could clean shot glasses?”

Bianca straightened up from where she was kneeling in front of the stage. She looked ten years older. “I…” Bianca tossed her rag on her stage. “Preset the quick-change pieces and props for for tonight?” she offered. “Trixie, there’s a list of what we need on the props table. It’s not a lot of costume pieces, but Katya wants her ribbon, Kim and Alaska have matching pieces to sing backup for Ginger. Just get everything out, check-off the list.”

“We can do that,” Trixie mustered a genuine smile before heading towards the stage, Adore in tow.

“Thank you!” Bianca called after them. “Don’t fuck it up, I’ll know whose head to shave in their sleep—”

“You owe me sex for this!” Adore replied, flipping Bianca the bird as the two girls trekked into the wing. Trixie laughed. She found the list, just as Bianca had said, folded on the empty props table. They began walking to the dressing room. 

“Okay, so, Katya’s ribbon; Kim’s jazz shoes; my guitar, duh; Alaska’s stupid puppet; two-mic packs, Ron will get that—” Trixie read softly.

“What do you wanna wear? You should let me straighten your hair for tonight,” she interrupted. “We could be all matchy-matchy,” Her mind was already elsewhere, even as Trixie was reading off the list. Adore tucked a piece of her loose blue hair behind her ear. It was down today, a little disheveled. She looked pretty.

“Not on your life,” Trixie pushed the dressing room door open and flicked on the lights.

“Trixie, please!” Adore whined. “We could be so cute, you could borrow my clothes—”

“Your clothes wouldn’t even cover one of my nipples,” Trixie laughed.

“You have big nipples—?” Adore cocked her head for a moment, blinked once, and then grabbed Trixie’s arm. “I have some big t-shirts we can cut up! You _never_ wear black. Please, please, please, _please_!” Trixie went about the room, found the various bits of props and pieces. She had Katya’s ribbon in her hand, Alaska and Kim’s jackets and hats over her arm, and she handed a few things to Adore. 

“That’s not really me,” Trixie gave Adore an exasperated smile, but the blunette had implemented those beggars-eyes, bright and hopeful. “Adore—"

“Seriously? Just— you’re doing a whole different genre of music, you’re doing a duet, Trixie, you’re going through so many changes—! Why not _show that_! Please! I can make you look so pretty and aesthetic!” She jutted her lip out. “I promise, you’ll still be _you_ just with… an altered exterior!”

“Adore, I don’t think—”

“I’m sure we can implement some pink— you could wear those pink overalls you have, with like, like _fishnets_ under the— _oh my God_ I have these pink platform boots, you’d look so fucking good! Fuck! And, like, a little skirt with fishnets—”

“We are leaving Barbie planet, Adore, I’m not sure—” Trixie looked comically disgusted.

“ _Grunge. Fucking. Barbie._.” Adore yelped.

Trixie wasn’t convinced. “…No.”

“Ugh, _Trixie_! Please, just once! You never have to do it again!” Trixie made a soft noise in the back of her throat. Suddenly, Adore’s face brightened. “It’ll be nothing like what Brianna will wear?” she pressed.

Well… that didn’t take much.

Trixie sucked in a breath. “Nothing… too crazy, okay? I don’t wanna look like someone from Goth-Mars, but I also don’t wanna look like Katya— wait, that’s the same thing,” Adore laughed, and Trixie was sure she would’ve clutched her arm if they both weren’t full. “Come on,” Trixie began with a smile. “Let’s put these on the table and we can run your song a few more times.”

Without a word, Adore was bouncing out the door of the dressing room. She was singing excitedly at the top of her lungs, already halfway down the hallway by the time Trixie had closed the door behind her. Trixie followed behind her with the ghost of a smile on her lips. As much of a handful Adore could be, she was just as much a day-brightener.  
Trixie was nearly down the hall, almost to the exit when the basement door swung wide open. Through it appeared a disheveled looking Katya, Brianna at her heels. Trixie couldn’t have felt her heart drop more. It was clear the two had just woken up. Brianna’s clothes were a little askew and those impeccable blonde curls were all tousled. Trixie took solace in the fact that Brianna didn’t really look her best. She couldn't say she was surprised, Trixie was sure they’d spent the last several nights in Katya’s home together. 

“Oh, God, Trixie, what the hell are you doing here?” Katya blinked uncomfortably from the sudden brightness. She rubbed her eyes.

Trixie grimaced. “Good morning to you, too, asshole,” Trixie shifted her weight a little.

“Hi, Trixie!” Brianna said brightly. “It’s been a while.”

“Not if you count awkward eye-contact from the audience,you know, every night,” Trixie replied. Brianna laughed, pretty, and melodic, and Trixie wanted to _vomit_.

“You get better and better every night. And you look so stunning. It’s too bad you leave so early. Katya says you’re usually out of the building by the time she comes into the house to get me,” she said softly. Cracker’s arms wrapped around Katya’s waist from behind. She had to strain on her toes to rest her chin on Katya’s shoulder. Katya leaned back in to her, but her eyes remained scrutinizing Trixie.

“Oh, she did, did she?” Trixie lifted her brows at Katya and then Brianna. “Hm, well, if you’ll excuse me—”

“You never answered my question,” Katya teased softly. And as if to punctuate her point, she stepped in front of Trixie, even with Brianna hanging off her torso. She was playing with her.

“That’s because you were being a dick,” Trixie replied, suppressing a grin. Katya looked a little more awake now. “I’m helping Bianca get ready for tonight, well, Adore and I were—”

Katya looked satisfied with her answer. “Well, okay. We’re going out, so, see you later—”

“Baby!” Brianna whined. “Trixie, you should come _with_ us. I’ve been telling Katya to invite you out for weeks!”

“She’s busy, Bri,” Katya manipulated her arm around Cracker, so she was pressed into Katya’s side. Trixie gave Katya an incredulous look, a scandalized one that if Brianna noticed, she didn’t say anything. Katya ran a hand through her messy waves.

Trixie sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, no, super busy. Performing with Adore, _working_ , you know? Responsibility.”

Brianna nodded understandingly. “I have so many deadlines, I’m so behind. And it’s all this cunt’s fault,” Cracker knocked her hip into Katya’s. “I’ll get a sentence or two in and then Katya’s hands are in places they shouldn’t be—”

“Good to know,” Trixie said quickly. “You should get on that, I’ll see you later!”

“The sex?” Katya laughed obnoxiously, awkwardly. “Oh, we will,” Trixie thought she saw Katya grab Brianna’s ass, but she wasn’t sure.

“Mm,” Trixie pursed her lips. “Brianna, I don’t know if Kat told you, but there’s gonna be a party at Bianca’s after the show tonight. We would love for you to show your pretty little face,” Trixie allowed her voice to sound more bright than usual, carefully trying to extract all irony from her tone, well aware of Katya’s warning gaze. 

“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” Brianna curled her arm around Katya’s bicep. “Matching pinks, right? I have this really gorgeous, glittery pink dress. It’s literally the full Barbie fantasy.” 

“Sounds great, you should totally wear it,” Trixie tried to remain unphased by the interaction, plopping Alaska’s hat on her head to relieve the weight of costume in her arms.

”And Trix,” Brianna said in what seemed to be a sudden burst of courage, reaching out to squeeze Trixie’s hand. “I know you have work, but _please_ come out with us next time, I love having you around.”

_Fuck._ Of course, Brianna had to puncture her bubble with unadulterated, sincere kindness. She didn’t dare look at Katya.

“I will,” she said softly. “I’ll try,” She didn’t know if she meant it, but she said it. 

✘✘✘

“Ow, ow, ow, ow— _Adore_ , you’re burning my head with that thing!” Trixie resisted the urge to jerk her head back from the straightener Adore had clasped around her curls. She watched in the mirror as each messy tendril was flattened out. Adore was resting on Katya’s stool at the vanity, her fingers combing through the hot pieces of Trixie’s hair. A few hours had passed since Bianca had finished setting up the house, the place primed and prepped for the evening’s show. No one was even there yet, the dressing room empty, a little quiet lest for their conversation, and the droning of some of Adore’s music. It was only 5:00, but Adore insisted she get a head start on Trixie’s curls, have them finished before call time began. They had barely started, too busy fighting, or laughing, or jabbing at one another. Trixie loved it. 

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Adore popped her gum as she began her ministrations on a new piece of Trixie’s blonde hair.

“Adore, I swear to God, if you don’t get that gum two-thousand feet away from my hair, I’ll—”

Adore screeched in laughter. “You cunt! I’m being careful! God, you’re a bitch about your hair,” She wrapped a curl around her free finger. 

“I haven’t done this since I was thirteen and I burnt a patch of red on my forehead where I had bangs. It was there for a week, my mom made me go to school, and I cried in the bathroom when the kids called me names,” Trixie looked into Adore’s face. 

Adore made no attempt to suppress her laughter and soon, Trixie was laughing along with her, tears brimming in her eyes. The straightener forgotten in Adore’s hand for a brief moment of mirth. Trixie leaned against her new friend, her stomach aching. Adore’s fingers tangled affectionately at the roots for a moment.

“I won’t burn your scalp, I promise,” Finally, after the laughter had died down, Adore sat up, grabbed another strand of curls, and began her routine all over again. “You won’t look like Freddy Kreuger’s ugly great-niece, twice removed.”

Trixie giggled. “You’re such a bitch,” Adore popped her gum again, this time by Trixie’s ear. 

“But your best friend, so shove it,” Adore continued her work on her hair, slowly, slowly, her curls flattened, the fine strands hanging wispily around her face, tickling her chin and ears. It took them nearly a half an hour, maybe a bit more, to finish up. Trixie’s curls were thick and stubborn. Adore burned herself (and not Trixie, surprisingly), several times throughout the process.  
The cast had started to trickle in from their day off just as Adore was finishing up. Ginger was fifteen minutes early (of course) and paid no mind to either girl for the most part. Kim, Alaska, Violet, and Aja all trailed in at five ‘til. 

“Oh my God, Trixie! Look at you, werk…!” Alaska drawled, appearing at her side. “I’m living for the vibe— slap your makeup on, girl, you’re gonna look so good,” 

Warm excitement bubbled in Trixie’s stomach. “Thanks, Alaska.” 

“You’re welcome,” Adore grinned proudly. “I think I’m gonna put a flower crown on her too, but we’ll see with the outfit, you know?” she tucked a bit of Trixie’s hair behind her ear. 

“Mm, maybe a like, tinted glasses or something…?” Alaska drawled out on the ‘ng’. “I think I have some in my accessories,” Alaska twisted one of the strands of hair. “What’s she gonna wear?”

“I haven’t really decided yet,” Adore said over Trixie’s hair. “Y’know, just something grunge, and cool, and like Trixie, you know? Like it’s Trixie, but _new_ ,” 

“She’s gonna make me look like a dead Barbie from Mars,” Trixie huffed. Adore and Alaska laughed. 

“So, Katya?” Alaska mused. 

“Katya’s not new, she’s old,” Ginger called from across the room. Trixie laughed. 

“And still getting more ass than you,” Violet faced the room. She had one eyebrow done and a plethora of foundation applied. 

“Speaking of, where is she?” Trixie asked tentatively. “This is her second time coming in late.” 

“You say that like you don’t know it’s fucking Brianna,” Violet said with a laugh. She turned back to her mirror to finish her face. “I gotta say, she was never this dedicated to me, and I’m kinda salty.” 

“No one is more saltier than Trixie,” Kim assured. 

_Kim_!” 

“I call it like I see it.”

“Can we talk about how great Bianca is in bed instead?” Adore was grinning, bright and cheekily. Several members of the group groaned in disgust, turning back to their own devices. Trixie felt her heart swell. She looked up at Adore, trying to convey her thanks, her gratefulness. There was peaceful, mutual silence between them for a moment, before Trixie spoke up. 

“Does it look okay?” Trixie reached for one of the strands by her face and twisted it round her finger. 

“Yes! Beautiful!” Adore’s eyes practically lit up. “Your face looks thinner— not that it isn’t beautiful the way it is normally—” Adore patted Trixie’s cheek, similar to the way Trixie had earlier. “Almost done, like… three more strands.” 

Soon enough, Adore was stepping away from her, clicking the iron off. 

“Done, what do you think?” Trixie stood from her stool and approached the mirror. Her hair looked wispy, soft. 

“Wait, Trixie! Wait—” Kim lobbed herself from her seat, that damn camera in hand, Trixie just fucking knew it. 

“This is not that big of a deal, you guys—” Trixie laughed, but Kim had already snapped the photo, giggling. 

“Yes, it is,” Adore grabbed Trixie’s hand, laced their fingers together. “I told you this would be fun!” 

She did look great. Far better than she’d imagined. The hair was falling past her breasts, and boy was there _a lot_ of it. It had a slight wave in some places, but Trixie liked the look. Kim’s camera flashed again, capturing the room, her expression in the mirror. She rolled her eyes. Adore was giggling hopefully, Trixie’s hand pressed against her chest. She didn’t look like a completely different person; no, of course not, but her face did look slimmer. Her hair wasn’t the first thing she saw when she looked at herself, either. Her brown eyes popped a little more, her face was framed differently. She didn’t think it to be a permanent style choice, but she certainly wouldn’t hesitate to do it a second time, given the chance. 

“What do you think??” Adore pressed. Her fingers were tightening in Trixie’s. 

“Adore, it looks— really good,” Trixie laughed a little, ran her fingers through it for the first time. She tucked it behind her ears, tossed it behind her shoulder, fiddled with it. The more she played, the more she liked. “Adore, it looks really _fucking_ cool!” Adore squealed, nearly screamed. She flung herself into Trixie’s arms with a mantra of ‘I told you’, ‘I told you’. Adore _did_ tell her. 

“Come on, we gotta finish up! Makeup, clothes, let’s go!” Adore practically tugged Trixie back into her seat. She was right. The hair had taken a while, and Trixie forced herself to stop playing with it so she could dig into her makeup. Adore plopped into Katya’s stool. Trixie wondered briefly if her late entrances were to become a recurring theme.  
Shaking the thought from her head, Trixie leaned into the mirror and began applying her makeup. 

Adore giggled softly. “I really feel like a part of the cast again, y’know?” Adore had shoved most of Katya’s makeup unceremoniously towards the mirror while she placed her own bag in its place. “Like I never left.”

Trixie smiled as she blended her foundation. “Everyone missed you a lot,” Trixie allowed her eyes to flick to Adore’s. 

“Well, duh,” Adore tossed her blue hair. “I’m amazing!” 

“—zingly annoying,” Trixie countered. Adore’s jaw dropped at Trixie and Trixie suppressed her laughter, settling for a devilish-sort-of-smirk. “What? You’ve heard yourself talk, right?”

“You asshole!” Adore grabbed her eyeliner pencil and jabbed it at Trixie, who dodged just in time. She caught Adore’s wrist, laughing as she struggled to mark Trixie up. They laughed, but Adore never gave in, not once. 

“Not my face, Adore! Watch—” Trixie was practically bursting with laughter, Adore’s determined grin probably egging her on the most. 

She didn’t even notice when Katya appeared behind them, looking disheveled but less so than yesterday. Her mood was certainly different, as well. Trixie caught her gaze in her peripheral but didn’t cease her resistance to Adore. 

“I’m the annoying one? Have you _heard_ your laughter?” 

Trixie shrieked, but covered her mouth. “’Dory! You’re such a bitch!” Trixie snorted. Her eyes found Katya’s again. She didn’t seem too pleased with the current state of her vanity, Adore’s legs practically everywhere.

“Hey,” Katya spoke first, dropping her keys and wallet on the vanity beside Adore. “Are you two lovebirds finished yet? Kinda need to get ready.” 

“Snooze, ya lose,” Adore said chipperly, turning back to the mirror to apply her eyeshadow. Trixie covered her mouth, laughed into her hand. 

“She’s got a point…” Trixie bit her lip. “Like my hair?” she twirled one of the straight strands around her fingertip. 

Katya pursed her lips, her eyes looking mildly playful. “Yeah, it’s the straightest thing about you.” 

Trixie looked scandalized, but she didn’t feel that way. If Katya wanted to go around like this, she could go around like this. “How unfortunate for you, then, huh?” Trixie spun on her stool, peered into the mirror to continue with her face. Something in Katya’s expression shifted, but only briefly so. She turned back to Adore. 

“Okay, bitch, come on,” Katya gestured with her hand. “I wanna finish getting ready.” 

“Yeah, well, I wanna sit next to my best friend,” Adore began packing eyeshadow over her lid, her free hand coming to rest on Trixie’s thigh. Trixie smiled into the mirror and placed her hand over Adore’s. 

Katya cocked her hip. “Best friend, doing my job—” She weighed the two options in her hands, giving Adore a playful glare. 

“A job you were _late_ to. Twice.” Trixie countered, causing Adore to brim with giggles. They both did. 

“Trixie, come on,” Katya was starting to sound just a tad exasperated. Trixie wished she felt worse than she did. “I’m already a little behind, just _move_.”

Katya was giving Adore a long, scrutinizing look. One Adore returned with vigor and determination, but it was moot. Adore groaned irritably, climbed up on the vanity, and snuggled her way into the space between Trixie’s and Katya’s table areas. She leaned into the mirror that way with her makeup bag sitting between her folded legs, and without a word to Katya, she returned to her makeup. Trixie snorted over her contour brush, making eye contact with Katya in the mirror. She looked absolutely perplexed, but despite it, she slipped into her stool and began reorganizing the makeup Adore had pushed around. 

“So,” Adore began, dipping her eyeliner brush in its gel pot. “Is Brianna coming tonight?” 

Katya leaned into the mirror to slather on a bit of foundation. She looked a tad bit cramped, Trixie wasn’t surprised. She was too, she had to use Adore’s thigh as a place to rest her elbow, just so she could finish eyeliner. “She comes every night,” Katya’s voice had lifted, even just a tad. 

“Yeah,” Adore mused. “What an obsessed bitch,” she cackled loudly. “I’m kidding! I really like her, Katya, she’s nice.”

Trixie snorted. Katya’s eyes flashed to Trixie briefly.

“Uh, yeah, she’s perfect,” Katya said with a soft smile. She pressed setting powder to her face, expression somehow unreadable. Trixie couldn’t help but watch, the familiar feeling of abandonment pooling in her stomach.

“Is she good in bed?” Adore blended out some colored shadow beneath her eye, then made quick work of lining her eye.

“Obviously,” Katya snorted. “What do you think I was doing before I got here?”

Trixie tore her eyes away from Katya.

✘✘✘

“Hey _bitches_ , it’s me, Adore, again!” Adore bustled onstage, her hand-held mic clutched in her left hand. Trixie followed, her acoustic guitar slung over her shoulders. The crowd was whooping, shouting Adore’s name. It was beyond clear she was missed by the regulars. Trixie was a little lost in the shuffle, but that was okay. Adore was at her side, and they had a beautiful performance to do. “And I brought my new best friend, your new favorite Miss Trixie Mattel!” Adore plopped into one of the two stools set in the middle of the stage. Trixie followed suit, tugging free the hair that had caught itself in her guitar strap. She loved the straight hair, but there was just _so_ much of it. Trixie giggled into the second hand-held mic, this one situated in a stand so Trixie could sing and play. She crossed her legs beneath her guitar.

“Hey, everyone,” she gave a simple wave.

“Doesn’t she look _so_ hot? I did that, I made her hot,” Adore tucked a piece of hair behind Trixie’s ear. “Outfit’s mine too, dontcha think she should dress like this all the time?” Trixie kicked her fishnet-clad leg out to show off her platform boot. She did look good, she knew that. Her legs looked great, her sweatshirt was a washed out, rosey pink that Adore had cut the collar off of. She even had on a choker and a few bracelets, but she had every intention to tear those off as soon as she left the stage.

Several men in the crowd hollered, Trixie rolled her eyes and plucked idly at her guitar strings, urging Adore to hurry-it-the-fuck-up. She wanted to play.

“And I look hot, too - you like my body?” Adore said in her best Anna Nicole Smith voice and ran her hand down the side of her body, giggling brightly as several whistles followed her movements. “Anyway! So, I convinced Trixie to learn one of my songs for tonight— for the few who don’t know, I used to work here, perform here— Trixie actually, uh, replaced me this season,” Adore tossed her hair and smiled warmly at Trixie. “I couldn’t have asked for a better replacement either,” she placed her hand on Trixie’s thigh and continued to speak. “This song isn’t actually released yet, but… it’s for someone really, really special. It’s about a person who loves me and takes care of me, who has sacrificed so much for me,” Adore rapped her fingers on the mic’s base, Trixie watched the blue haired girl’s hopeful eyes trail to the wings, trail to Bianca. “She always thinks of what's best for me, even if it makes her unhappy. And, I want her to know that… I adore her,” Adore smiled. “This is _I Adore U_ ,” Adore placed her mic into its stand and scooted to the end of her stool, back straight, heart pounding.

Trixie smiled at Adore, licked her lips, and began to play. Adore looked like she was shaking, her hand was still resting on Trixie’s thigh, even as she leaned into sing.

_This is how it ends, **never meant to hurt you,**_  
_I'm a pretty mess and **I don't deserve you,**_  
_I ran out of time and **second chances,**_  
_Sorry couldn't build your **white picket fences,**_

_“And I-I-I only got myself to blame,_

Adore’s breaths were a little shaky, but other than that, she seemed fine. Her voice sounded stunning, crystal clear; but Trixie thought it always did. She envied Adore’s ability to riff, to belt beautiful notes on a moment’s whim. Even if Adore was the better singer, they both sounded good together. Their harmonies were solid. Trixie was glad she talked Adore into them.

_'Cause every time I see you, it's like all I am is see-through,_  
_We were everything I know it, don't wanna miss it, record it,_  
_I adore you,_  
**I adore** , _I adore you_ , **I adore** ,  
_I adore you_ , **I adore,** , _I adore you_ , **I adore,**

Trixie knew without looking that Adore’s eyes had fallen on Bianca; for her, there was nobody else in the room. Trixie could see their stage manager, hands clasped at her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks as she listened to Adore’s beautiful voice. Tears of impossible exhaustion, of love.  
In that moment, Bianca looked so… fragile. So unlike the person Trixie knew her to be. There wasn’t a doubt in Trixie’s mind that Bianca knew.  
Adore had written this song for her.

_The falling out was easy, but I hate that you don't need me,_  
_And it gets so hard to speak, every time you get to me,_  
_’Cause I adore you,_  
**I adore** , _I adore you_ , **I adore,**  
_I adore you_ , **I adore,** , _I adore you_ , **I adore,**

Trixie dared a look into the wings for Katya, regret immediately filling her stomach. Her hands almost slipped on the strings. She felt hot and flushed, sick and calm, her chest constricting and contracting. Her insides were swaying like the damn ocean, her heart - the moon.  
She saw Katya’s strong arms wrapped around a tiny waist covered in shimmering pink, the unmistakable trademark of a well-loved Brianna Cracker. They were clinging into one another, bodies moving in tune with the melody. They weren’t even looking at the stage. They looked at each with such affection, that even from feet away, Trixie could see it. So soft, gentle, _adoring_. This, Trixie realized with sudden clarity, was the real fucking deal.  
Katya…  
Katya just looked so fucking _happy_. Content. And Trixie _hurt_. She was hurting, not because of Brianna’s existence, but because Trixie was a shitty fucking friend.  
She was fighting Katya through this whole relationship for no good reason. For selfish reasons. For reasons Trixie had yet to grasp.  
She was fighting Katya’s _happiness_.

_Everybody says that you're doin' **fine now,**_  
_Cruisin' for a thrill like **I wouldn't find out,**_

The words took a new meaning, one Trixie hadn’t felt before. One that, had she not looked at Katya, would have flown right over her head. She tore her eyes away. Heavy, heavy tears sprang from her eyes, threatened to fly down her cheeks and ruin her perfect makeup. Ruin her perfect night. Her head felt heavy, the guitar in her lap felt light, as if it could slip from her fingers any moment.  
She blinked the tears away and tightened her hands on her instrument.  
This was _Adore’s_ moment. And Trixie be damned if she takes away happiness from someone else tonight, too.

_When you turn it back, **do you ever wonder?**_  
_If we could have tomorrow in **technicolor?**_

_And I-I-I got so much left to say_

Trixie’s breath hitched, her whole heart somehow full and hollow at the same time. She needed to talk to Katya.

_'Cause every time I see you, it's like all I am is see-through,_  
_We were everything I know it, don't wanna miss it, record it,_  
_I adore you,_  
**I adore** , _I adore you_ , **I adore,**  
_I adore you_ , **I adore,** , _I adore you_ , **I adore,**

_The falling out was easy, but I hate that you don't need me,_  
_And it gets so hard to speak, every time you get to me,_  
_’Cause I adore you,_  
**I adore** , _I adore you_ , **I adore,**  
_I adore you_ , **I adore,** , _I adore you_ , **I adore,**

Trixie felt her head pounding, her legs twitching slightly to the beat. Her playing became more aggressive, her fingertips pressing heavier on the strings. She willed herself to not fuck up the tempo, to keep her anxiety, her emotions at bay. For Adore.

_And no-o-o-o-o-o, can't you see it,_  
_I adore you_  
_No, no-o-o-o-o-o, you're mi-i-ine,_

“I adore you,”

Adore’s voice was almost a whisper, big green eyes glued to Bianca’s tearful ones. Trixie shivered with the intensity, the intimacy of that moment; a million regrets and words unsaid becoming almost tangible across the room.

_'Cause every time I see you, it's like all I am is see-through,_  
_We were everything I know it, don't wanna miss it, record it,_  
_I adore you,_  
**I adore** , _I adore you_ , **I adore,**  
_I adore you_ , **I adore,** , _I adore you_ , **I adore,**

_The falling out was easy, but I hate that you don't need me,_  
_And it gets so hard to speak, every time you get to me,_  
_’Cause I adore you,_  
**I adore** , _I adore you_ , **I adore,**  
_I adore you_ , **I adore,** , _I adore you_ **I adore,”**

Trixie could’ve dropped her guitar, her hand fell from the neck, her other dangling simply over the strings as the instrument sat limply in her lap.  
As she predicted, the audience went wild, screamed _Adore, Adore, Adore_. Trixie was tired, so tired. It was only one song, but it took the very breath out of her.  
She was so proud.  
She glanced to Adore, who was looking past her, into the wings, at Bianca. Trixie glanced back at the audience, before taking Adore’s hand, lacing their fingers tight. Adore’s pretty eyes found Trixie’s, and soon they were hugging. Adore was sniveling a little.  
But they were happy tears.

“Thank you,” she whispered into Trixie’s hair. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Trixie smiled softly, pulled back from the embrace to look Adore in the face.

“Go get your Willow.” 

And she did. 

With a quick wave to the audience and a mumbled thank you, Adore was strutting into the wings. She wrapped Bianca in her arms, held her tight to her chest. And Bianca held back, Bianca clutched Adore with all the strength her tired body could muster, hand tangled in the girl’s blue hair. Both women disregarded responsibility, just for a moment. Trixie followed her into the wing, her guitar clutched in her left hand. She passed Bianca and Adore, passed Aja, Kim, and their praises.  
And then, Katya.

Brianna stopped her. Placed a soft hand on Trixie’s wrist; her pretty, pink nails digging lightly into Trixie’s skin.

“That was… incredible,” she whispered softly. “You two are incredible together.”

Trixie felt her entire world crashing. She glanced at Katya, whose face was wary. _Wary_ of what Trixie might say. _Wary_ of what Trixie might do to the girl Katya probably loved.

Trixie hugged her. Against every fiber, every bone, against every selfish desire, she tugged that fucking Knock-Off-Barbie in her arms and hugged her. And Brianna held her too, giggled in her ear. Trixie mumbled her gratitude and stepped back.

“Trixie, are you okay?” Katya whispered softly. Trixie’s eyes had filled with tears again. Katya looked softer than Trixie had seen her in ages, concerned. Concerned for Trixie.

Trixie drew a trembling breath, opened her mouth to reply, and then walked away.

Probably the dumbest thing she could’ve done, looking back Trixie realized that. But what could she have said? Especially with Brianna-Heart-Eyes watching her. Trixie set her guitar in its stand and took off down the hallway, straight into the dressing room. She had a few more performances to top the night off, but nothing had ever been lower on Trixie’s priority list. She needed a moment, an hour, a day, a lifetime; just to sort out her emotions. Just to figure out what the _fuck_ she was going to do.

✘✘✘

The audience was long, long, long gone. Everyone was in the dressing room, packing their things, reminiscing about the night. Trixie kept to herself.  
Tensions between her and Katya were still high, still too thick for Trixie’s taste. Katya didn’t even look at her, let alone speak to her. And she wondered if hugging Brianna was the wrong thing to do. Speaking of, Brianna was perched on the couch, watching as the cast changed, fixed themselves, and sat waiting. She was smiling, watching Katya, talking to Katya with vigor and mirth. Katya peeled off her sweaty, nasty bodysuit, held it up for Brianna to see. Brianna laughed. Trixie failed to see the humor.

“Ooh, she is so wet, honey,” Brianna teased, reclining into the cushions. Katya laughed, laughed like she always did.

Adore was nowhere to be found. That being said, neither was Bianca. Trixie hoped for the best, hoped that Adore was getting everything she wanted. How could she not? Trixie quickly changed into a loose, pink dress, not bothering to take off her makeup. She found it to be too much work anyway, and instead chose to secure her hair in a loose bun. She grabbed her bag and guitar and stood at the head of the room.

“See you at the party, Trixie,” Katya’s voice carried over the commotion of the room.

“Yeah, see you!” Brianna waved cheerily. Trixie looked back at Katya, smiled, and waved them both as she stepped out the door.

Trixie headed towards the wings, her legs aching in her black boots. She couldn’t wait to shed these boots, couldn’t wait to collapse on Bianca’s nice couch and not move for an entire evening. She pried the backstage door open, shut it quietly behind her, and headed towards the stage while she fished for her keys.  
But voices stopped her.

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me? I got on that stage— I poured my _heart_ out to you— and— you’re saying _no_?!” 

Trixie’s jaw-dropped a little. Overcome by the utter desperation in Adore’s sweet voice. All at once, the air was sucked out of the room, and all Trixie could do was stand there, frozen.  
She should turn back, she should turn around and wait them out in the dressing room. After all, she would no doubt hear every heartbreaking word from Adore, anyway.

“Adore—” Bianca sounded careful, precise. “Adore, I’m doing what’s _best_ for you,” she sighed. “You can’t go live your dream out in California if you’re tied down by me.”

“You are _part of my fucking dream_ , Bianca! Every song I write is about _you_ , every plan I make _includes_ you—”

Bianca sounded so tired. “That’s my point, Adore! You are _nineteen_ years old. You have a lifetime and a half ahead of you, you have so many options—”

“And I choose you! You’re only thirty-three!” Adore argued. “And you’re not my goddamn mother!”

Trixie peered her head warily around the curtain. Adore’s back was to her, but when she turned her head, she could see the blue-haired girl’s cheeks, now tracked with mascara and thick tears. She looked absolutely beautiful.

“Adore,” Bianca placed two gentle hands on Adore’s thin shoulders. “Please understand this. I know I’m doing what’s best for you, okay? I only want what’s best for you—”

Adore choked on her sobs, her head shaking back and forth rapidly. “Bianca, please, Willow, _please_ ,” Bianca looked up into the rafters, staving off her own tears, trying to be the strong one. For Adore.

“You know I’m right—"

And what was sorrow, Trixie watched become frustration, pain in the form of anger. She shoved Bianca’s hands off her. “Agh! Tell me you don’t want me!”

“Adore—”

“Tell me you don’t love me! Tell me you fucking _hate_ me! Tell me I am the _last_ person you could ever see yourself with! Read me to filth, tell me that all you wanted from me was the sex!”

Trixie didn’t think she ever heard Bianca go silent before.

“Tell me you _never_ loved me, that you didn’t cry for weeks when I told you I was leaving. Say that when you told me you loved me last Christmas, when all our friends were sleeping on your floor, tell m—” Adore choked up. “Tell me you didn’t mean it. Tell me that you lied about wanting a future, a _life_ with me.”

Trixie should leave. She was intruding on them. She was intruding and she was going to have to sit there and act like she didn’t hear any of this when Adore called upon her for comfort.

Bianca looked to the floor, tears streaming in near-torrents. “I meant every word, Adore, I meant every goddamn word, but—” Bianca shook her head. “Fuck, Adore! That was a _a year ago _and so much has changed! I’ve had to fight so hard to pick up _every fucking piece of myself_ —” her voice broke.__

__“Not how you feel, though, right?” Adore’s face changed for a moment. “Is… there someone else, Bianca?”_ _

__“No, God, no!” Bianca waved her hand. “I don’t—” she heaved a heavy sigh. “Adore—"_ _

__“I’m still in love with you.”_ _

__Silence. Long, oppressive silence._ _

__“…please, say it back,” Adore croaked. “I need to hear it, right now, please.”_ _

__“Adore, you know how I feel—” Trixie could hear how Bianca was treading carefully, but every step echoed. Every step was a crack in Adore’s already delicate heart. Trixie’s heart broke for her. She wasn’t sure how Adore would come back from this._ _

__“If you’re gonna break my heart again, just say it back, _please_.” she begged._ _

__“Adore, _you_ broke my fucking heart. It took everything I had— I just, you left—” Bianca’s voice fell, now just above a whisper. “Adore, I don’t think I can go through it again. I’m just not strong enough.” Bianca suddenly went radio silent and Trixie had to peer around the curtain again.  
Adore had inched closer towards Bianca, taking the brunette into her arms. Trixie could see Adore’s hand reaching to gently stroke the older woman’s cheek, pulling her into a long, soft kiss. Adore was on her toes to accommodate Bianca’s heels. Her hands were tangled messily in Bianca’s previously neat updo. Bianca was melting into Adore, holding on for dear life, her long nails pressing into the soft skin of Adore’s hips. They stayed like that, their kiss deepening. Trixie couldn’t help but smile, even just a little. She turned to leave._ _

__“No,” Trixie was shocked by the firmness in Bianca’s voice. She had pushed Adore away from her, continued putting several paces of distance between the two of them. “Adore, I said no. And that’s fucking final.”_ _

__“Bea—”_ _

__“You will go back to California. You will work on your music, you will live your best life, and you _will_ grow up,” Bianca started towards the wing. “You will regret this, regret _me_ , and I can’t—” Trixie panicked, scrambled behind the costume rack. But Bianca stopped. “You should probably go stay with Trixie,” there was a finality to her tone._ _

__Bianca’s heels clacked into the wing, dangerously close to Trixie’s hiding spot, before disappearing through the doorway._ _

___It was silent again. Trixie didn’t know if Adore had moved, and when she peaked around_  
the clothes, her question was answered.  
Adore stood, mindlessly crying. She looked so young, despite being only a month Trixie’s junior. She looked so sad, so fragile. Any life Adore had had in her seemed drained, taken. It was like someone had stripped the color from a Leonid Afremov painting. Flushed any trace of color right down the drain. 

__She doesn’t know what motivated her, but Trixie set her bags down in the wing and walked onstage. One careful hand reached out to touch Adore’s shoulder. She jumped, but when Adore saw Trixie sympathetic expression, she collapsed.  
Broken sobs shook Adore’s shoulders, heavy and loud, darkening Trixie’s pretty pink dress. Trixie held her tighter, closer, held her like Adore would when she cried over Katya._ _

__“I love her so much— I love her _so much_ , Trixie!” she lamented, her hands fisting in Trixie’s shirt. “I fucked things up so badly,” she said, voice broken and tired._ _

__Trixie tightened her arms around Adore,. “I know, I know…” she cooed softly. “Adore… you’ll work things out, it’s gonna be okay, I promise,” Trixie fell into a mantra of these words, not knowing if her words were lies. She comforted Adore like she would comfort her younger sister after a bad scrape on the pavement. She kissed Adore’s head several times, stroked her hands comfortingly over Adore’s pale skin._ _

__She didn’t know if it was gonna be okay. For all she knew, Adore and Bianca might not ever speak to one another again. Bianca could start avoiding the poor girl like the plague… but a small part of Trixie had to believe in their love. In love, at all. She knew Adore loved Bianca, she knew Bianca loved her back.  
The way Bianca looks at Adore was not something you could just _give up_._ _

__Trixie estimated they stood there for ten minutes. Adore sobbing, sniveling. She lamented to Trixie in broken words, half-sentences. Trixie’s legs ached, arms too, her tear-stained dress soaked on the left shoulder.  
But all these insignificant nuisances escaped Trixie’s thought process as she ran her hands down Adore’s back, massaged soft, comforting circles._ _

__“Do you wanna come back to my place?” Trixie whispered after a moment of silence._ _

__“But— the party—” Adore hiccupped. “My party,” she looked up at Trixie, big, glassy green eyes._ _

__“Oh, I just figured you wouldn’t wanna go…,” Trixie swiped her thumb across Adore’s cheeks, scrubbed lightly at the tracks of mascara._ _

__“I gotta go, I made her throw the stupid thing,” Adore wiped her eyes, sniffled again._ _

__“Adore,” Trixie frowned. “You… don’t have to, no one will make you. We can just tell everyone I was having a mental breakdown over Katya and you were worried for my health—?” Trixie suggested with a hint of a smile. Adore laughed. Adore laughed briefly and it felt like a victory._ _

__“No, no... let’s go. But I think I need a ride,” Adore blinked the gunk from her eyes._ _

__Trixie nodded. “Go get your stuff and we can get in my car.”_ _

__Adore nodded tiredly, swiped at her eyes, and made her way to the wing. Trixie grabbed her purse and her dance bag from behind the clothing rack and followed Adore back down the hallway. They walked into the dressing room, and in heavy silence, Adore cleaned up her things while Trixie waited by the back entrance. It was a longer walk to her car, but she figured Adore could use the time._ _

__As Adore packed, she said, “How… much did you hear?”_ _

__Trixie shifted from one foot to the other. “All of it, almost all of it.”_ _

__Adore sniffled again but nodded. “…Do you think she’ll ever come back to me?”_ _

__“I think...” Trixie scratched the back of her head. “she just sounded so broken, Dory.”_ _

__“I shouldn’t have left,” Adore’s tone had suddenly changed from exhaustion to pure panic, her breaths short._ _

__“Adore, listen to me,” Trixie said seriously. “She was right about one thing. You _belong_ out there. You’re a damn star, babe.”_ _

__Adore was silent as she tried to regain control of her breathing. “I’m a fucking star,” she managed. “I know I am, because she’d never lie to me. But,” she sighed heavily, “I’m also going to kick her stupid ass.”_ _

__Trixie smiled a little. “I’ll beat her up too,” she promised._ _

__Adore cracked half a smile, huffed pleasantly at Trixie’s cooperation. “I’m glad I have you,” she mumbled, “really glad.”_ _

__

__The drive to Bianca’s was brief. Almost entirely silent, lest for the few times Trixie attempted a distracting conversation. Adore sat in the passenger seat of Trixie’s truck, attempting to fix what remained of her makeup and make herself at least semi-presentable. When they parked in the lot, Trixie turned a little to face Adore, insisted she was still willing to drive them both back to her place for a movie and pizza. Even if she had to go to the store and buy a frozen one. But Adore was insistent upon their arrival.  
They climbed out of the car, Adore grabbed Trixie’s hand, and they scaled up the few flights of stairs to Bianca’s front door. Neither girl bothered with knocking, Adore tugging Trixie by the hand through the threshold. Soft music was already pounding Bianca’s speakers, the smell of pizza and alcohol overtook Trixie’s nostrils. She was so hungry._ _

__“Ah!” Ginger clapped his hands. “There’s our girls!” He was sitting beside a heavy, broad-shouldered, bearded gentlemen. Trixie speculated that it was probably CJ, his boyfriend._ _

__“Hey!” Adore wiggled her shoulders. ‘Let’s fuckin’ party!”_ _

__Trixie could tell Adore was faking it. And Trixie would do just the same, for her sake._ _

__“Where’s the beer?” Adore tossed her long, blue hair behind her shoulder. “I need to be completely sloshed, tonight, you have _no_ idea,” Adore tugged Trixie into the kitchen, where Kim, Ron, and Chi Chi were helping themselves to some wine and beer. They were all talking animatedly about the performance, Kim swaying to the beat of whatever lame song Bianca was blasting. They said their greetings. Trixie grabbed herself a beer bottle and popped the cap. Adore grabbed one too._ _

__“Hey, Trixie!” Kim wrapped a loose arm over Trixie’s broad shoulder, “We gotta do a duet now, you gotta back up my stunning vocals.”_ _

__Trixie laughed, but only a little. “Pick the song, bitch, I got you.”_ _

__Trixie felt like she was trapped in a thick cloud, a haze that wasn’t allowing her to _enjoy_ anything. And, she’d been that way for most days lately, but tonight? Tonight, it was amplified. She didn’t know if it was Adore, or Katya. Or maybe both? But it was a funk she couldn’t pull herself from. She’d walked ten steps in Bianca’s front door and all she could think about was going home, going to sleep, hiding beneath the covers. Texting Pearl for the third time that week and not getting a response. She wanted to go to Katya’s home and lay herself out on every piece of furniture until she looked her in the eyes with that soft look again. She wanted to grab Bianca and hug her until she was whole enough to let Adore back in. She wanted to thank Brianna for making Katya happy while simultaneously wanting to banish the bitch from ever looking at Katya again. She wanted so many things. So many faraway things._ _

__“Trixie,” Adore placed a gentle hand on Trixie’s arm. It snapped her out of her trance. “Trixie, Alaska brought a couple joints,” she gestured toward the door with her thumb. “Wanna come smoke with me?” She was smiling. Trixie was so glad Adore was smile._ _

__“Ron and Chi Chi have already had a hit or two— they said it’s choice shit,” Kim interjected pleasantly. “I’m just gonna stick to the juice tonight.” Kim held up her glass._ _

__Trixie laughed and held up her beer. “Why not both?”_ _

__“C’mon!” Adore whined, tugging Trixie back out of the kitchen, into the main room where several of the guests were situated on the couch. Spread out on the cushions and a few of the surrounding chairs were Katya, Brianna, Alaska, Violet, Aja, and Bianca. As soon as Adore walked in, Bianca moved quickly, as if bitten by a snake, mumbling some half-assed excuse about needing another drink, and Trixie almost ran after her to make her stay._ _

__“Woman of the hour!” Alaska chimed to Adore. “Look at her! Mm!” Alaska leaned back into the cushions, Trixie could already tell he was high._ _

__“Trixie!” Brianna blurted pleasantly. “I was worried you wouldn’t come!”_ _

___“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Trixie lied. She cleared her throat. “I’m glad you came too, Bri,” she said, trying to sound genuine. She had to start being nicer. She was gonna start being nicer. For Katya. Trixie sat crisscross on the floor and Adore followed suit._  
On the table Trixie could see some chips Bianca had laid out. Also, some absurd finger-food that she probably won’t touch. Besides that, a few joints, rolled up and waiting. Her fingers itched.  
She hadn’t smoked in ages. Hadn’t smoked since long before her move to Boston. Sometime early in the summer, out on the roof of Pearl’s house, when her parents were gone for the evening. They smoked, talked about life, talking about leaving Wisconsin.  
Trixie never actually thought she would. 

__“Trixie, have you picked a song for the Burlesque show?” Violet asked, swirling her drink. It was some concoction she no doubt made from Bianca’s plethora of booze._ _

__Trixie swallowed her beer. “No, no, you?”_ _

__“I fuckng dare you to do a fucking Dolly song,” Aja interjected. “Strip to _Jolene_ or, Jesus, _Coat of Many Colors_.”_ _

__The group laughed, but Trixie just rolled her eyes. “That’s the dumbest— and most disrespectful— thing I’ve ever heard,” Trixie said incredulously, popping one of the chips in her mouth._ _

__“It could be hot, all _country girl in the city_ —” Aja defended._ _

__“Oh, my God, shut up, Aja,” Violet teased, nudging him in the chest. “What about you, Adore? What song you gonna do?”_ _

__“Mm, I was thinking Universe by Savage Garden,” Adore shrugged. “I have this whole piece figured out. “There’s gonna be a reveal, and smoke—”_ _

__“Hey—” Katya began, wrapping an arm around Brianna. Her eyes were red, glassy, Trixie realized she had already taken a hit. “Wanna try?” she held a joint up to Trixie._ _

__“I do—” Adore swiped the joint right out of Katya’s hand, brought the smoke to her lips and took the drag of a lifetime._ _

__“You smoke?” Trixie asked Katya, her hands smoothing down the braid she’d secured earlier._ _

__“Don’t gimme that look. Weed is different than meth,” she answered coolly. Trixie lifted her brows in shock. Brianna laughed, hand buried somewhere under Katya’s shirt. Trixie turned to Adore._ _

__“I’m gonna need that,” she swiped the joint from her friend, brought it immediately to her pink lips. She took one long drag, pulled the joint from her lips and let the smoke billow out, slow and soft._ _

__“Oh, fuck, this is _not_ Mattel’s first rodeo—” Violet scoffed._ _

__✘✘✘_ _

___Three hours later, Trixie was floating. She didn’t know how much she smoked, but she did. She smoked a lot and it was the best fucking feeling in the world._  
Her storm cloud had cleared, all she felt was warmth and sun, and Adore’s finger tangled lazily in her hair. She couldn’t remember if her braid had fallen out of if she took it out but Adore was massaging her scalp _so right_ and all she could do was press back into the ministrations, practically purring.  
Since the smokes had been passed around, the tension in the room was gone. At least in Trixie’s mind. All the hard edges seemed to have entirely dissipated from the world. Adore and Bianca hadn’t talked all evening, and Katya had barely looked at her, but Trixie was still giggling, leaning her head lazily in Adore’s lap. Adore was giggling too, staring down at Trixie with blown, green eyes and a smile that only appeared in contentment.  
Bianca had a small window nook, a bench and pillows in her apartment that Trixie and Adore had staked their claim to. They’d been lounging there for almost an hour and a half, talking back and forth in long, drawn-out sentences.  
Adore evidently, was a tad bit soberer than Trixie. Apparently, she’d been smoking on the regular, could hold herself much better than Trixie, who was almost six months out of smoking her last bowl. 

__“This is fun,” Adore whispered._ _

__“Very fun,” Trixie replied slowly. “So much fun.”_ _

__Adore laughed. “Party.”_ _

__Trixie turned her head to look out the window, looked out over the city lights. The oranges, yellows, blues, and reds all merging into the horizon the farther she looked. It wasn’t completely dead out there, she knew, but enough to just be… peaceful. She could see the water by the harbor, the lights rippling on its surface. Trixie thought that if she stared long enough, she could manipulate the lights into shapes. She tried to make Adore’s face.  
It didn’t happen._ _

__Just down below them was a flickering streetlight. It blinked on and off, unrhythmically, annoyingly. Trixie stared at it, long, hard, willed it to shit or get off the pot._ _

__“Off… or on… fucker,” Trixie spat under her breath._ _

__“Fucker?” Adore questioned, her nails digging pleasantly into Trixie’s scalp._ _

__“Huh?” Trixie looked briefly at Adore._ _

__“You— what?”_ _

__Trixie shrugged, reached for the long-empty beer bottle she’d placed on the floor. She whined at its lack of contents before just… dropping it. She’d no doubt grab it again in ten minutes or so.  
Her eyes found that flickering, yellow streetlight again. This time, beneath it, a young couple stood, embracing, kissing. Trixie scoffed._ _

__“Kisses are gross,” She mumbled softly._ _

__“Hm?” Adore had two hands full of Trixie’s straight hair, her nails combing through each strand. Trixie loved it. Trixie fucking loved every second of her life right now._ _

__“Kisses are gross—”_ _

__“No! They’re amazing!” Adore shoved Trixie off her lap, forcing the blonde to sit up. “Why would you say that?”_ _

__“My first kiss was the worst—” Trixie began, unsure of the catalyst here. “I kissed Ron— I mean, some guy, and he was drunk and gross and he _pinned_ me to my truck—” Trixie scrunched her nose. “And it was my _first_ kiss, my _only_ kiss, Adore. And it was so bad, so, so bad. So gross—”_ _

__“It doesn’t have to be,” Adore said shortly._ _

__“Huh?” Trixie cocked her head, her hair falling and tickling her throat._ _

__“You don’t have to count it, Trixie,” Adore smiled sheepishly. “Just, like, that sounds awful. So, don’t count it, go out and get a _real_ one.”_ _

__Trixie scoffed, reached for her beer again, and set it down in frustration when it was empty. “Where in the hell am I gonna get a real kiss?” she said begrudgingly._ _

__A moment of silence passed between them, and then Adore said,_ _

__“I could be your first kiss— your do-over,” she offered quietly. So quietly._ _

__“Wha—?”_ _

__“Hear me out! One kiss with one girl doesn’t make you gay, baby. And it’d be with someone you trust, who cares about you…” Adore trailed off. “You can’t tell me it’s a bad idea.”_ _

__Trixie hesitated. Was she considering this? She was actually considering this. She was considering kissing a girl, considering kissing _Adore_. Her mind was too foggy for critical thinking, her head felt a little heavier, things felt a little bit more real._ _

__“Uhm…”_ _

__“You don’t have to, Trix, but, it… it could be fun,” Adore shrugged. “I can show you what a _real_ kiss is like,” Adore tucked Trixie’s hair behind her ear, her beautiful big eyes reassuring. “I won’t be mad if you say no.”_ _

__Trixie blinked, her head nodding. But she didn’t remember telling it to._ _

__“Is… that a yes?” Adore cocked her head to one side._ _

__“Yes,” Trixie croaked breathlessly. She said yes. She said yes. _She said yes.__ _

__“Okay,” Adore’s face broke into a gentle grin, a kind smile. Trixie watched her adjust herself, one of Adore’s legs dangling off the side of the bench. Their knees were touching, Trixie’s legs in crisscross. They were so close. Adore’s knees were touching hers. Her heart was pounding._ _

__Trixie blinked a few times before casting a wary glance around the room, but mostly at Katya, who was occupied by something Brianna was saying. She didn’t really check, but everyone else seemed occupied as well._ _

__“Ready?” Adore asked, one hand gently resting on Trixie’s forearm. “I’ll go slow, I’ll be careful,” she said reassuringly._ _

__Trixie nodded slowly. Her voice was somewhere else in the room, she was sure of it. Adore scooted closer again, their knees knocking even more. Trixie’s heart was pounding, trembling, about to burst forth and fly out this fucking window.  
And Adore was leaning in, one hand placed strategically on Trixie’s cheek, her thumb hanging at the corner of Trixie’s mouth. Adore’s eyes were closed, Trixie could see her slow, slowly approaching._ _

__Their lips met._ _

__It was brief, closed-mouth, and before Trixie could react, Adore was pulling back._ _

__“That’s it?”_ _

__That’s it? _That’s it._._ _

__It felt like absolutely nothing she’d expected. First of all, the damn sky remained intact. She didn’t feel sick. She didn’t feel queasy and nervous. She didn’t feel the way she felt when the Shea rumor went around in high school._ _

__She didn’t feel… _wrong_. She felt happy, and sweet, the taste of Adore’s lips almost bubbly on her own._ _

__Adore laughed, bright and happy. Trixie wanted to kiss her again. _Actually_ kiss her. “What? More?”_ _

__Trixie blinked her eyes, thought she could see her reflection in Adore’s glassy ones. Her reflection fucking nodded._ _

__“Mm,” Adore brought her other hand up to the back of Trixie’s neck, tugged her back into a kiss. Trixie kissed her. It was slow at first, careful. Both girls were struggling for a workable rhythm. Trixie was struggling to figure out what the fuck was going on here, on this day.  
Once they found their niche, the kiss picked up, deepened. Trixie had one hand stroking Adore’s cheek, the other holding Adore’s waist. Adore was leaning her weight on Trixie, opening her mouth ever so slightly._ _

__This wasn’t kissing._ _

__This was fucking _making-out_._ _

__Trixie pulled away, eyes wide. She felt a different kind of high. Adore’s hand was still stroking her neck, still looking at her with glassy eyes, a lazy smile._ _

__“You okay?” Adore questioned. “You’re a natural,” she grinned._ _

__She’s a _natural_. Trixie is good at kissing._ _

__Trixie is good at kissing Adore._ _

__Trixie _likes_ kissing Adore._ _

__Trixie doesn’t feel wrong _at all_._ _

__She grabbed Adore’s face, brought it into a third kiss. A third kiss Trixie was going to make count. Trixie kissed with fervor, with determination she didn’t know she had. Her whole stomach _bloomed_. It took no time at all for the two girls to find some sort of rhythm this time, and soon Adore was practically leaning over Trixie, kissing her with passion, with power. Her mouth opened, Adore’s tongue found its way inside. Trixie didn’t mind, Trixie didn’t care. Trixie tangled her fingers in those soft blue locks, tugged and twisted. A soft noise of contentment fell from Trixie’s lips.  
Her heart was beating, beating, beating. Anticipation, anxiety, pleasure, passion, reality._ _

__Trixie liked kissing._ _

__She liked it a lot._ _

__✘✘✘_ _

__Across the room, Violet was chatting pleasantly with Alaska, with the group, laughing at joke told by Katya from the other end of the couch. She leaned forward, gracefully, so gracefully, to retrieve her glass when a movement, a shift, suddenly caught her eye. She looked up, towards the bay window._ _

___Holy fuck._ _ _

__Violet’s face spread out into a wide grin, her hand clamping tightly around Alaska’s wrist. Alaska tried to jerk from her hold. He didn’t follow her eyes, just tugged at her arm._ _

__“C’mon, Vi, what’s up with you? Knock it—” She knew he went silent when his eyes followed hers. Violet sat up, straightened herself, pretty and petite and practically vibrating. Fucking _vibrating_._ _

__She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t fucking believe it. _She couldn’t believe her fucking eyes.__ _

__She cleared her throat for the group, but her eyes found Katya’s specifically. “Ehm, did we all know this was a thing?” She gestured her wrist lazily towards Trixie and Adore, one step from fondling each other on _Bianca’s_ bay window. Eight pairs of eyes followed Violet’s direction, laughter dying out and giving way to stunned silence. Stunned. Silence._ _

__“Come _through_ , Trixie Mattel!” Violet said around her wine glass, eyes twinkling. _ _

__Brianna nearly yelped, grabbing Katya’s arm and shaking it. Violently, excitedly. “I knew it! I Katya, I fucking _knew_ she was gay!”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BIANCA


	15. When Everything Starts Breaking Down, You Take the Pieces Off the Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie immediately turned to the mirror, but barely recognized herself. Her straight hair, which was flying in a thousand directions, tangled, frizzy, sexy. Her eyes were still glazed from the drugs, but now, her pupils were blown from arousal, melting into the brown of her irises. And her lips: swollen and messy, smudged with Adore’s bright red lipstick, all the way down to her chin. Her mind flashed to Katya’s red, red lips. She touched her mouth, ran her fingers over the smudges, over the distended skin of her mouth. Suddenly, she could almost see Katya’s lips on hers; she blinked the thought away like a faraway dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD, okay, I feel like this chapter took me way too long, but it literally hasn't been long at all. Well, heres to my fever dream fueled by some very GAY music.  
> aNYWAY. I don't know how this is going to be received, but a lot of love and labor went into this one by me and my beautiful beta. Come see us on Tumblr, bitches!  
> Anna (me) : [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Oro (beta) : [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you so much for the feedback, comments, kudos, all of it. You guys really fuel my motivation and my passion for this story.  
> Another thank you to my beautiful beta. We put SO many hours into this piece(seriously, six-plus hours on the phone discussing motivation, realism, reactions, events, etc. It's our labor of love, our literal _baby_ ). This means the WORLD to us. This story holds such a close spot to my heart because, as I've said before, it is based partly in reality. It wouldn't be where it is without her devotion, and I love her so fucking much.

And in one single moment, the world had stopped.  
Everything had just… stopped.  
Katya was staring, slack-jawed, wide-eyed at a new Trixie she didn’t even know. This Trixie, who was kissing a girl. Trixie, who was kissing a girl _she knew_. Trixie, who was kissing a girl that… _wasn’t her_.  
She honestly never thought it possible. At least, not so _soon_. Katya felt so lost, like the Earth had just jerked and twisted right beneath her feet. Like she was just sent tumbling, face forward, into the unknown.  
Her heart lurched in her fucking chest, making room for an emptiness she had no idea she was capable of, a feeling that, if she let it, could swallow her whole.

_That was supposed to be her. Damn it, that was supposed to be her. She was supposed to be kissing Trixie, holding Trixie—_

She could feel herself dangerously teetering over the edge. She wanted to run away. Go somewhere. She needed a break. She needed out. She forgot how to move her lungs and she was definitely not okay with that. Something was terribly _wrong_.

_“I knew it! I Katya, I fucking _knew_ she was gay!”_

Brianna’s voice broke through Katya’s self-destructive mantra, and suddenly, she was everywhere; Katya could feel the warmth and softness of her skin, her pleasant weight against Katya’s side, her intoxicating scent. She looked like the sun, doused in pink and glitter. Katya’s actual damn sun, pulling her away from darkness. Katya wrapped her arms around Brianna’s waist, bringing her closer, practically inhaling her.

Brianna’s dark eyes met hers, and that’s when the penny dropped. Everything dropped. 

She loved her. She loved _Brianna_. And the rest didn't matter.

Her heart suddenly stopped tumbling; Katya was home. 

“I know, I know--” Katya whispered.

“Ayo, Trixie! Oxygen, girl! Get some fucking oxy--” Aja shook his head, resigning to lean back against Chi Chi’s broad chest. “Amateur.”

“Well, of course she’s a fucking amateur,” Violet snorted. “It’s her first time.” 

“That looks like so much fun,” Brianna whispered breathlessly, her hand falling dangerously high on Katya’s thigh, eyes again fixated on Trixie and Adore. Katya, already familiar with the micro changes in the girl’s demeanor, bit her shoulder gently, nails digging into the fabric of her dress. Brianna let out an almost inaudible, private moan; just for her. Katya couldn’t decide what was driving her crazier, Adore’s hand moving across Trixie’s hip, or the feeling of Brianna squirming under her touch. But damn if she was going to stop and ask herself that. Her hand instinctively mirrored Adore’s, her tongue moving across Brianna’s neck, hot and wet. She loved that she could tell, just by Brianna’s expression, that her underwear was getting destroyed under her pretty little dress. She loved to be the cause of that.

Adore’s body was now fully covering Trixie’s, her hands _everywhere_ , mouth moving lower. Neither of them seemed to care, Trixie’s eyes half-closed in a blissed-out expression.

Suddenly, she heard a loud crashing sound, completely destroying Katya’s buzz, pulling her out of her dreamlike state. Without thinking, Katya brought her free hand to her mouth, head snapping to the end of the couch. 

_Bianca_. 

Golden liquid spilled all over the floor, all over her nice black heels. Katya held her breath.

Trixie and Adore both froze, suddenly aware of being the center of attention. Their lips had been swollen, makeup ruined; hearts pounding. The room felt taut, like the air around them had ceased its circulation, ceased its movement. Adore’s expression, eyes now glued to Bianca, mouth slightly agape, wasn’t dissimilar to a deer caught in headlights.

Bianca’s hand was shaking, trembling where the glass had slipped from between her fingers; unable to return Adore’s gaze, but also unable to look away.

“Bianca--?” Alaska said softly, “Are--”

Before Alaska could finish her words, Bianca had leapt to her feet. And with a soft utterance of ‘excuse me’, she hung a left, down the hall, and straight to her bedroom. 

“ _Bianca_!” 

Adore ungracefully scrambled to her feet. 

She practically stumbled off of Trixie, out of breath, her hair fucked, just a tad bit disoriented. She made her way after Bianca as if her life depended on it. 

Trixie laid there, eyes following Adore out of the room with a slow carelessness. Legs open, eyes wide, hair fanned out on the few decorative pillows Bianca had laid out upon the bay-window bench. If you had asked Katya in that moment, she looked like an actual angel. But no one asked Katya, her hand resting comfortable under Brianna’s skirt. Trixie didn't move for a moment. The room was silent, lest for the sounds of Ginger sweeping up Bianca’s shattered heart. 

Another moment passed. Trixie sat up, finally; finally breaking the tension, the tightness to the room. She smoothed out her dress with her fingers, pulled it back down to the middle of her thighs and turned around. Her eyes flicked across her spectators, mostly on Katya, who had returned to her unbelieving expression. 

“What’re all y’all _lookin’_ at?” Trixie’s slur had that slight midwestern twang to it, her hand came up to run through her hair. 

Katya was… gobsmacked. 

“Your newfound sexual glory, for one,” Ginger said dryly, finally finishing with Bianca’s mess. 

Alaska had bitten down on his tongue, utter enjoyment on his face. “Trixie is a lesbian exhibitionist, and I’m one-hundred percent here for it.” 

“One Trixie walked into this party, and a completely different one just came out of Adore’s mouth--” Violet cackled, taking Alaska by the thigh. 

Ron, who had a very attentive arm around his girlfriend, leaned into Kim’s ear. “That makes… way too much sense,” It was clearly supposed to be private, something spoken amongst two lovers, but Ron had too much to drink to be subtle. And to those few who understood, the air in the room suddenly felt tight again. Kim shifted uncomfortably, scooted down the couch to put a few inches between them. 

Trixie scoffed. “Go fuck yourself, Ron. God knows I won’t do it.”

Katya howled, her legs flying off the floor, hand out from Brianna’s skirt to clap mirthfully.  
Trixie suppressed a grin, stood from her spot on the bench, took one step towards the middle of the room and stumbled. For a moment, Trixie thought she was going to eat complete shit, but she regained her balance last minute. She gripped her head, the combination of the drugs and beer making her vision dance. No one moved. 

“Oh, God, Trixie.” Violet leapt to her feet, her wine abandoned on the coffee table. “Someone’s gotta help you,” She snarled at the group. She took Trixie’s arm and guided her over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind them. Violet flicked the lights on, and Trixie’s eyes had to adjust to the sudden brightness of the bathroom, of the white walls. 

Trixie immediately turned to the mirror, but barely recognized herself. Her straight hair, which was flying in a thousand directions, tangled, frizzy, sexy. Her eyes were still glazed from the drugs, but now, her pupils were blown from arousal, melting into the brown of her irises. And her lips: swollen and messy, smudged with Adore’s bright red lipstick, all the way down to her chin. Her mind flashed to Katya’s red, red lips. She touched her mouth, ran her fingers over the smudges, over the distended skin of her mouth. Suddenly, she could almost see Katya’s lips on hers; she blinked the thought away like a faraway dream. 

Like a memory that fades the moment it reaches your lips; a sudden, cool shiver on your skin on a hot summer day.

Her attention fell back to her own physique, the way her body curved and swelled in all the ways she used to hate. The body she sometimes had trouble imagining would bring pleasure to another, her pale skin now reddened with Adore’s hungry touch. She looked damn good. Strung out, sexy. Violet was saying something, but Trixie couldn't even comprehend the words. 

This wasn't Beatrice, anymore.

This was _Trixie_. 

This was the Trixie she always wanted to be, and damn if she was going to let her go. 

Violet placed a gentle hand on Trixie’s arm, leaned into the mirror, and tried to find Trixie’s gaze, Trixie’s attention. 

“Hey, pothead,” Violet waved a hand in front of her face. “Are you okay?” 

Trixie blinked, snapped her gaze to Violet. “Hm? Oh, I’m great, mama. I am--” she faced herself in the mirror. “So fucking great.” 

Her words, while precise in her mind, were still slurred, and Violet could see anything Trixie might’ve been saying didn’t fully reach her eyes, her thoughts. 

“Oh my God, you’re a fucking mess, Trixie Mattel,” Violet began rummaging through Bianca’s cabinets and before Trixie knew it, she had produced a small bag of cotton balls and some coconut oil. “You look like a fucking trainwreck,” Violet made gentle work of cleaning the lipstick, the smudged makeup from Trixie’s mouth and cheeks. Trixie leaned into her touch, stared hazily at Violet’s stunning face. Her bangs were loose, hanging down the side her face in one big, wavy curl. She didn't have it slicked or pinned anywhere; a rarity. It fell in long, beautiful waves - less defined than Trixie’s own, but beautiful nonetheless - splayed and framing her face like some brunette goddess, while Trixie was disrespecting with her long stare. 

“You’re really beautiful,” she mumbled softly. Violet’s eyes flicked from her work and to Trixie’s blown, brown ones. She looked a little put-off, surprised by Trixie’s forwardness. 

“Sorry, I don’t take Adore’s sloppy-ass seconds,” Her voice was biting, teasing, and it didn't bother Trixie in the least, because Trixie saw her features soften. Even under Violet’s seemingly focused visage, her expression lightened.

✘✘✘

Trixie was admiring Katya’s strong thighs.

And had been for the past ten minutes, watching the way the Russian twirled herself on a pole centerstage. It was their last few rehearsals before Burlesque Night and Trixie had taken to watching her friend’s rehearsals.

It was still far from the gayest thing she’d done all week.

Almost a week had gone by, and it was already very evident to Trixie that what happened at Bianca’s party certainly did not stay there. Adore and Trixie had been sneaking off during rehearsals; she had been staying with Trixie, too. The two shared Trixie’s bed, her small hotel room, and one bathroom. It was cramped, but Trixie would’ve done almost anything for Adore.

That happened to include holding her while she cries herself to sleep, or when things got too difficult at the club. Trixie would tell her it was all going to be okay; kissing her head, her lips, her cheeks, anything to make the pain slip from Adore’s face, just for a moment. And Trixie was getting very good at comforting Adore.

Trixie wasn’t gay. Trixie didn’t have feelings for Adore, but what felt good, felt good. And Adore felt _fucking_ good. They both seemed to feel the same way.

After that first night, Trixie had woken up fully disoriented and a bit hungover. She had slept, cramped, on that very same bay window. Adore had supposedly slept on the couch adjacent, but when Trixie woke, Adore was gone. She assumed the blue-haired girl had slipped into Bianca’s bed during the night. She’d done it the first night she spent there as well. 

Trixie had remembered everything. Every detail of the night’s unfolding. She had remembered kissing Adore, Bianca running off, Violet ushering her into the bathroom.  
She remembered looking at herself in the mirror, looking absolutely dishevelled.

She remembered liking what she saw. A warm feeling started in her heart, flowing throughout her body and gripping her between her legs. She knew that feeling to be power, and she loved it. Loved being this new wild, unbalanced, sexy barbie doll. This new version of Trixie Mattel; All the Trixie Mattel she’d ever hoped she’d become.

She rolled over, staring out the large window as daylight took over the city, seemingly slowly. But before she knew it, the city had been fully awake, and she was staring, transfixed, at the cars and people soundlessly hurrying to wherever it is they were going. None of them knew anything of Trixie, Trixie knew nothing of them. So the rest didn't matter. 

That silence was broken by nearby voices, loud enough for Trixie to comprehend.

“Bianca, just listen --” Adore’s beautiful voice, now broken with tears.

“Adore, I can’t do this right now,” she heard a door open, “I can’t. I told you it was _killing me,_ ” Bianca sounded absolutely defeated, deflated, voice rough from what Trixie now realized to have been a sleepless night. “And you pissed all over it! You did this _right in front of me_ , in front of all of our friends, these people _I work with_ , in my _fucking living room_ \--”

“You’ve never minded it in the past?” Adore whined. “It’s always been like this, before,” she said softly.

“It’s not like before. We can’t just go back to the way things were,” Bianca said, “Adore, don’t you get it? You don’t get to pull that shit anymore, not after everything that’s happened.”

“But I didn’t mean it like that, I _swear_ , Bianca,” Adore pleaded.

“No. You said you were a grown person, you’ve made a decision,” Bianca said, finality in her tone. Trixie knew better than to argue with that tone. Did Adore?

Trixie heard the soft click of the bedroom door. She shut her eyes tightly, hoping to disappear, until she felt Adore’s hand on her shoulder, shaking her. “Come on, Trix,” she said, exhaustion visible in her voice. “Let’s go home.”

Adore never mentioned what happened between her and Bianca.  
Trixie knew better than to bring it up.

Trixie’s eyes flitted over Katya’s body, the way she was dragging herself across the floor like some seductress. Mouthing the words to her piece, their eyes met for a moment. Trixie lifted her brows, Katya spared a grin, and Trixie flipped her off.  
Katya laughed, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Mattel, stop fucking distracting her--” Bianca snapped. “Or I’ll kick your sorry ass out. You too, Delano.”

“But what did I do?” Adore whined.

“You’re fucking distracting _me_ ,” Bianca’s tone meant business.  
“Beat it, queen!”

“Hey,” Adore’s voice was just loud enough to be heard over the music, barely an inch from Trixie’s ear. “You heard her. Let’s beat it, queen.”

“Yeah, okay,” Trixie smiled. They may not have been welcomed at the rehearsal, but the alternative wasn’t so unappealing.

“C’mon,” Adore grabbed Trixie’s wrist, helped pull her out of the bar seat as Katya’s set was ending. Trixie didn't look at Katya until she was tugged through the side door, up into the wing where their eyes met. Katya’s expression was odd, unreadable, as Adore pulled her into the back hallway.

“Katya! C’mon, we’re running it again…” Bianca’s voice faded out of Trixie’s line of hearing as they traveled towards the dressing room. Adore peered in first, checked to see if it was vacant, and then tugged Trixie in behind her.

“Should we lock the door?” Trixie asked. Adore pushed her lightly onto the couch, climbed in beside her, and laughed.

“Nah, they’re all busy anyway,” Adore took Trixie’s face in her hands and pulled her forward into a kiss. There was a newfound softness, a gentle passion.

Trixie fucking _loved_ kissing her. 

Trixie slid her hands along Adore’s waist, fingers closing in on the small gap of space between her jeans and her shirt. Adore was so soft, smooth and her kisses made Trixie feel like she was blooming.  
Adore’s tongue slipped past Trixie’s lips. Her hands were everywhere again, sliding all along Trixie’s hips, her sides, even over her breasts. Trixie made a soft noise of content. They fell into their own little cadence, as they always did. The longer they kissed, the messier it seemed to get.  
Adore’s fingers were gently kneading Trixie’s breasts through her thin, pink tank top and bralette.

Trixie wanted more but she wasn’t sure what that meant.

She didn’t care to think about it.

Adore’s lips trailed down Trixie’s jaw, forcing Trixie to angle her head for better access. Her throat, her chest, She wished Adore had her lipstick on, wished she could see the trail she was leaving on her pale skin. But Adore rewarded her with soft love bites, several on her throat that Trixie knew she would have a field day covering for the show. She tugged Trixie’s shirt down, enough to place small hickeys, little drags of her tongue over her breasts. Trixie gasped, giggled as she tugged Adore back to her lips, her fingers tangling in the dark roots of Adore’s blue hair.

“Fuck, Trixie—" Adore giggled. 

“Seriously? _This_ shit again?”

The sound of Katya’s voice forced Trixie’s mouth away. When she turned to look at the older Russian, the scene surprised her. Katya was dripping in sweat, no doubt from the rigorous rehearsal, and she looked _pissed_. Her jaw was tense, nostrils flared, her lip curled into one hell of a scowl.

Trixie had never seen someone wear anger so fucking well.

Trixie imagined her hair looked fucked out again, pupils blown. Neither one of them heard the door open, Trixie wondered how long Katya had been standing there.

And Katya was in no mood to play. “Do you get that Bianca’s out there? Do you understand what you’re doing to her?” 

Trixie creased her brows. She took the time to unravel herself from Adore, to turn and face Katya from her place on the couch. “What’s the issue? It’s not like we’re doing it in her face,” Her tone was a little sharper than she anticipated, but Trixie couldn't say she wasn't annoyed by Katya’s sudden interruption. 

“Not doing--” Katya pinched the bridge of her nose then flitted her eyes back to Trixie. “Adore,” she began, her gaze hardening on the blonde. “Can you give us a second?” 

Trixie felt like she was about to chastised, Katya’s gaze was cold, frustrated. Trixie’s stomach was doing back-flips.

Adore seemed to hesitate and, for a moment, Trixie thought she might stay.

“Don’t yell at her,” Adore’s brief comment seemed to frustrate Katya more, and Trixie felt her stomach swirling, twisting up. Adore disappeared through the dressing room door. Trixie felt so, so cold.

Katya opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, as if she was unsure of what to say. Trixie watched her run a hand over her face, She thought Katya looked far older.

“Listen, let’s disregard whatever the fuck _our_ problem seems to be...” Katya began, gesturing between the both of them. “You need to listen to me, right now,” Katya approached Trixie, but didn't join her on the couch. “ _This_ \--” she pointed to the door. “Needs to stop because you are fucking over Bianca.”

“I—”

“No, no, no. Let me finish, Trixie,” Katya’s tone was harsh, harsher than she’d ever heard it before. “You’re new. You haven't been here long. You don’t _understand_ no one touches Adore. Okay? They’ve had this whole thing going on for— God, a _long_ time, Trixie.”

“But clearly,” Trixie began. “Adore needs comfort— Katya, she comes to me. I’m just doing what she wants, and fuck, Katya. I like it. I _like_ kissing her,” Trixie was going to be firm, assuring, Katya wasn’t going to push her out of this. Not when she felt this good about it.

“That’s not the point!” Katya sighed irritably. “I don’t know what the _fuck_ to tell you, Trixie. What you’re doing is not right. Bianca is _fucking_ falling apart, okay? She loves Adore, and you, _you_ need to back the fuck off.”

“You don’t own me— it’s just nice to have someone actually _want_ to be around me, Katya—”

“I _wanna_ be around you, Trixie. But I’m not gonna stand by someone— Goddamnit, that’s not what this is _about_! You’re crossing a line, and I’m tired of Bianca being on _my_ ass about it—”

And suddenly, it hit Trixie.

“Are you jealous, Katya?” The words flew from her mouth, spewed with a bit more venom then she hoped. She could hear Katya’s own voice, echoing the same question in her head about Brianna. She hoped the question pissed Katya off as much as it did Trixie. 

It didn’t. 

Katya’s answer was automatic. “Of course not, I love Brianna, I—” a full, intimate smile, one that made Trixie feel very small and alone all of a sudden, crept onto Katya’s face. Just like that, the anger seeped out of every inch of Katya. She looked calmer, softer. The old look from before had disappeared. She looked like herself again. “I… love her, Trixie.”

Trixie stopped breathing.

She had to look away from Katya, willed herself to not show any sign of upset. She clenched her jaw as if that could force back the tears she had welling in her eyes. Why did this hurt? Why was she aching all over? Her longing for Katya, something that had been staved off by Adore’s presence, hit Trixie in full-force. Three times what it was when this whole bullshit began weeks ago. She wondered if her relationships with any of these people were worth this. She ached. She ached in every part of her chest. She didn’t fucking _understand_ why on _Earth_ Katya made her feel this way.  
But she understood why Katya felt the way she did.  
Brianna was perfect. She was gentle, attentive to Katya’s needs and desires. Beyond that, she was kind. She’d attempted a friendship with Trixie on numerous occasions, the rest of the cast adored her. Brianna was everything. Brianna was everything Katya could possibly want. An intellectual, a comedian, a companion, an _actual fucking lesbian_.

Trixie was the real knock-off, wasn’t she?

Trixie breathed out slowly, tried to pass off her pain as shock, at the very least. “Katya, I’m—”

Trixie brought her gaze back to Katya’s hopeful, happy blue eyes. She took a deep breath. 

“I’m really, really happy for you.”

Katya looked as if a whole weight was lifted from her chest, and without another word she collapsed on the couch, pulled Trixie into a hug. Trixie’s breath hitched, and without a moment’s hesitance, she clutched Katya back. Fists balled themselves into the back of Katya’s tank top, she buried her face in the crook of Katya’s undoubtedly sweaty shoulder. 

She didn't care. 

Because hugging Katya felt _right_. Like some long, lost piece of her was restored after a lengthy absence. 

✘✘✘

“She’s in love with her,” Trixie sputtered. “She told me she’s in love with her.”

“Hm?” Adore looked up from her phone, over at the driver’s seat where Trixie was maneuvering her car back to the hotel.  
The show had just gotten out and Bianca released the cast without so much as a glance at either of them, despite Adore’s best efforts to mentally will her into saying something; anything. Katya had given Trixie a soft hug goodbye before disappearing to her home with Brianna. 

Trixie only half-reciprocated it. She couldn’t do it with Cracker there. Standing, smiling. 

“I don’t understand why I’m so upset—” Trixie shook her head, her hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. “She’s my best friend, I should be happy—"

“Girl, you just miss her, you’re jealous,” Adore said with a bit of finality. 

“I’m not—” 

“Not in a _gay way_ ,” Adore said quickly. “Platonic jealousy is a thing, Trixie.” 

Trixie huffed through her nose. “No one makes me feel the way she does—” 

Adore made a noise, something similar to disbelief and perhaps humor. Trixie chose to ignore it. She couldn’t handle it if Adore was making fun of her.

She pulled into the hotel parking lot and hoisted their bags out of her truck. The air on her skin was cold despite her jeans and sweatshirt, and it sent goosebumps all over her skin. Especially when Adore clasped Trixie’s cold hand in hers, leading them both up to their temporarily-shared home. Trixie unlocked the door, allowed Adore inside, and tossed their respective bags on the small sofa she had tucked in the corner.  
The room was considerately warm. In fact, Adore had stripped nearly to her bra by the time Trixie had shed her boots, and the sight caused the blonde to laugh. 

“Do you hate Katya for loving her?” Adore asked through their occupied silence. “Are you mad at Katya?” 

Trixie stripped out of her sweatshirt, her leggings, and searched for the nightgown she had torn off this morning. Trixie bit her lips, used her distraction as a moment to hesitate. 

“No,” Trixie said after a moment. “I just didn’t think this would be a problem.”

“Brianna? Or your emotions?” Adore had taken off her bra, tossed it into some lost corner Trixie didn’t see. She tried to give the girl some respect, some privacy, but Adore seemed to care about those things as much as Katya. She tugged an old t-shirt over her head and walked over to Trixie as she changed into her own pajamas. 

Trixie hesitated to answer again, sat herself at the foot of the bed and tied her hair into a loose bun. 

“I’m too tired for this,” she said with a bit of finality. 

Adore shrugged coolly, reached for one of the bedside lamps and brought the room’s illumination to a dim yellow. Trixie flicked the matching lamp off to surround them in pitch. 

“G’night, Trixie-Pixie,” she burrowed herself in Trixie’s side. 

Trixie thought an hour passed in the dark. If it weren’t for the shining streetlights peeking through the crack in her pink curtains, she’d be surrounded by a blackness she had never been comfortable with. Adore was curled into her side still, her arms tossed lazily over Trixie’s waist. She wasn’t sleeping; neither of them were.  
Instead, they laid in a packed, heavy silence, their out-of-sync breathing the only audible sound in the room. This was often their bedtime routine.  
Tonight, Trixie was _itching_ to talk, even more than before, thoughts hitting the walls of her mind like tidal waves. The silence was eating her alive; the sound of Adore’s soft breathing, blue hair tickling her arm, the room too hot to bear, the air too thick. She could feel the words bubbling in her, ready to burst forth like vomit.

Adore beat her to it. 

“Bianca was with someone when we met, you know?” Adore said into the dark.

“You never told me that,” Trixie released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. She was glad Adore spoke first. 

“And I hated her dumb guts,” Adore continued, “’Cause she wall pretty and blonde and skinny and perfect. She didn’t work at the Cabaret, but she could _sing_. Plus, she had like a weird—English? Maybe Australian accent?” 

“I love Bianca so much,” Adore said into the darkness. “So much. She… it wasn’t always like this with us, you know—” Adore chuckled softly. “I spent so much time thinking she actually hated me,” she sighed. “I guess now she really does.” 

“I’ve never seen her smile the way she does when she looks at you.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Adore, something that sounded almost painful. “I shouldn’t have left her,” she whispered. “I didn’t know things would be so _different_.”

Trixie could hear the soft drop in her voice, the painful break that always permeated her words these days. Her words about Bianca. 

“Adore, she’s just really hurting.”

“And you know the really horrible thing, Trixie?” Adore hiccupped, panic rising in her voice. “She told me to leave. Like… the minute I got the offer, I could see her start pulling away from me.”

Trixie didn’t know that. She stroked Adore’s hair, the girl’s tears staining her arm. Trixie sucked in a deep breath, waiting for the soft shaking that accompanied Adore’s sobs. 

But none came. Adore’s breaths became shallow, but steady. “I just let it happen,” her voice finally came, as if from a daze, her hands tangling in Trixie’s nightgown, “she won’t even look me in the _eye_ anymore.” Adore looked up to meet Trixie’s eyes, her tear-stained face beautiful in the dim light.

Trixie’s hand moved from Adore’s hair to her cheek, her neck. She caressed her silently, not knowing what to say. Sure, she didn’t have much experience with love— but thanks to the past year, she understood heartbreak. And Adore felt so much deeper, so much stronger than Trixie did, and she wished for nothing more than to make this pain go away. She tucked a strand of blue hair behind Adore’s ear.

She knew everyone thought they were just two dumb, sexually ambiguous kids, but her pain understood Adore’s. She could hear every one of Katya’s words echo through her mind, and for a moment, hesitation passed through her. The tears glistened on Adore’s face; Trixie wiped one with her thumb, and Adore moved closer, her face now inches away from Trixie’s. “I’m here, Adore. Whatever you need,” she whispered, kissing away another tear that came rolling down the girl’s face, and then another. They were flowing freely, but Trixie wasn’t afraid. She cupped Adore’s face in her hand and brought her lips to her own.

Adore grabbed Trixie’s face, locked their lips, tongue exploring desperately. Trixie sighed against her mouth, her hands sliding over Adore’s slender hips, her waist. She loved kissing Adore. She loved her the dip of her hips, the soft curve of her waist, the way her breasts felt beneath the thin cotton of her t-shirt, her nipples. Tongues intertwined with one another, hands in each other’s hair, tugging, stroking, twisting. 

She loved that she could turn Adore’s hot tears into pleasure. She knew it couldn’t fix anything, but for tonight, it was enough.

Adore tugged Trixie’s head back by her curls with a resounding jerk, causing a soft cry to pass Trixie’s lips. 

“Fuck—” Adore’s lips continued with their usual ministrations, adding to the ever-growing collection of hickeys on Trixie’s chest, a few larger ones finding themselves on the center of Trixie’s throat. It wasn’t that much of an unusual occurrence since Adore’s come to stay with Trixie, but this time, Adore had been rougher than normal. Her nails dragged across Trixie’s skin, her teeth biting into Trixie’s flesh; Trixie didn’t mind it at all. 

They’d never been like this before. They’d always had some buffer, some interruption, _some reason_ as to why they couldn’t go too far. And Trixie never thought she’d let it. 

What happens if they do go farther than this?  
What happens if they go _so much farther_ than this? 

Because Trixie wanted to. Did Adore?

Adore’s hands were inching up Trixie’s nightgown, caressing the outsides of Trixie’s thighs with her nails. She liked it. She liked the idea of Adore leaving little white scratches all along her skin. She hoped, only briefly, that Adore’s marks wouldn’t be coverable for her burlesque performance. For a moment, she wanted everyone to know.

Trixie’s own hands were travelling, too. Her fingers played with the soft flesh of Adore’s breasts from beneath her shirt, fingers tentatively grazing over her nipples. Adore’s breathing hitched, she pulled off Trixie’s neck to look hazily into Trixie’s eyes. Her pupils were blown, her hair hanging in several different directions from Trixie’s eager fingers. Trixie thought she looked so fucking beautiful.

She pulled Adore back to her mouth, kissed her slowly, but eagerly.

Adore sighed softly, “Trixie,” she mumbled against her mouth, her hand resting at the juncture of Trixie’s hip. “Trixie, Trixie…” Adore whispered her name like a mantra, like a prayer against Trixie’s lips. Trixie smiled this time, her hand slipping down past Adore’s ribcage, resting momentarily on her waist. She didn’t know what any of it meant, and she was too far gone to care. 

And then, lower again. Trixie’s hand fell lower yet, her fingers grazing the band of Adore’s panties, her breathing catching in a moment of hesitation.

Adore’s phone, resting lazily on the bedside table buzzed once, twice, going unheard by either girl just a mere foot away, both too caught up in each other. 

**Bianca**  
2:13am  
_Come home ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, sorry? :)  
> Need to yell?   
> Anna (me) : [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Oro (beta) : [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)


	16. I'm Building Memories on Things We Have Not Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” Adore began. Her hair was curled, tousled prettily around her face and shoulders. She had ripped fishnets on underneath a rather large, pink sweatshirt that Katya recognized to be Trixie’s. “How’s your girl?” she asked after taking a drag. 
> 
> Katya took one long drag from her cigarette and looked Adore in the eye. “I don’t think _my_ girl is the girl you should be worried about.” Katya’s voice sounded rough from the smoke, the silence.
> 
> “I’ve lost track of which one you’re referring to. The one you’re sleeping with or the one _I’m_ sleeping with?” Adore cocked her head a little. Katya thought she was looking right through her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, GOD, okay. It is almost four AM my time and Oro and I have been on the phone, no-fucking-joke _twelve goddamn hours_. I'll post the time-stamp on Tumblr. We essentially wrote this chapter _today_  
>  So, uh, business as usual! I'm sorry this took so long to get out! We hit a few bumps in the road, but we're here, we're queer, and we wanna make it clear!  
> Thank you so so goddamn for your love and support, my girl Oro and I wouldn't be here without you! Please keeps those kudos, comments, and anons coming!  
> If you ever wanna drop a line, visit us on Tumblr: [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/) (Me) & [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/) (Her)

“You gotta be _fucking_ kidding me, Adore!”

“Bianca, I—”

“No, Adore, I’m not having this conversation right now!”

“But you— last night, your text—”

“I was fucking drunk, forget it! I won’t go down that road with you again!”

 _A rather unpleasant way to awaken,_ Katya thought to herself, __was to awaken to the sound of Bianca’s grating voice. _S___ he wasn’t sure how Adore did it for almost a year. The Russian’s head pounded fervently, and there was nothing she wanted more than to roll over and bury herself in the pillows, bury herself in Brianna’s mess of blonde curls and inhale her scent. She rolled over, her arms tightening around her lover’s small waist, nails grazing her soft skin. She loved these moments, and they’ve been having so many of them as of late; Katya has never been this person, but she’d somehow become fascinated with Bri. She wanted nothing more than to spend the minutes before Brianna woke just looking at her lover’s fluttering eyelids, her beautiful mind still caught in a dream, her whole body emitting a sense of peace that Katya craved so badly.

But Katya knew the moment wouldn’t last - it never did, as Katya’s hands couldn’t help but slide over her girl’s waist, her arm, her neck, her breasts… at that, Brianna made a sweet hum of content, her unpainted lips spreading into a grin, warm brown eyes opening to greet Katya’s pretty blue ones. Katya could very well see her entire world in those eyes.

“Hey, you,” Brianna said dewily, lazily wrapping a leg around Katya’s waist. The noise from outside quieted down a bit, causing Katya to wonder briefly if perhaps someone had died. The question remained unanswered as Brianna used her surprisingly strong leg to draw Katya closer towards her, destroying any thinking process that might’ve taken place in her mind. Instinctively, Katya’s hand reached to grab Brianna’s ass. It was barely 8:30, and she could already feel the heat begin to spread throughout her.

“Did you sleep well?” She murmured into Brianna’s unmarked, delectable neck.

Eh, sleeping with a sweaty beast doesn’t have that many perks,” Katya wasn’t looking at Brianna’s face, but she could practically hear the twinkle in her eye.

Katya laughed at Brianna’s playfully lame tone, her expert fingers delicately stroking the petite blonde’s inner thigh, making their way upwards. Brianna pressed herself into Katya until no air was left between them. Katya had just leaned in to steal another kiss, when—

“Willow, will you please just look at me?”

“Adore, I just— _is that a new fucking _hickey_?”_

__

_“Fucking_ Trixie-- It looked covered before we left, okay?” She whined. “It was an accident, it doesn’t matter!”

The words echoed in the hall and through the walls, the entire room practically vibrating with them. Despite herself, Katya’s heart missed a beat. She groaned, pulling her already sticky hand from beneath the sheets.

“What the hell?” Brianna vocalized Katya’s irritability. “God, it’s like 8:00 in the morning, do you guys ever quit?”

Katya, realizing a perfectly good moment was in ruins, pulled herself from the confines of her mattress and blankets. She began tugging on various bits of clothing. Her fingers twitched for a light, and before she could even finish with her morning routine before she even left Brianna in her room, she lit up a cigarette and took a long drag.

“Babe,” Brianna warned softly. “Don’t put yourself in the middle of this—”

“C’mon, mama. I live for that drama,” Katya bent at her waist, let herself feel the stretch in her sleepy muscles.

“Katya,” Brianna’s tone held a bit more force to it despite its sleepiness. “Seriously, you’re getting way too involved. I think it needs to run its course, you know?”

“I’ll be right back,” Katya leaned over the bed, pressed another kiss to Brianna’s lips, and left the room before she could respond.  
As Katya ascended the stairs, the voices became clearer. She could hear the dangerous edge in Bianca’s voice. Years of working together had taught Katya the telltale signs of her breaking points, and Bianca was like a marathon runner headed straight towards the finish line.

“Kids,” Bianca threw her hands in the air, mumbling to herself. “This is what I get for messing with goddamn kids. Young, foolish, irritating…” Katya could hear the clack of Bianca’s heels as she was now pacing back and forth.

“Bianca--”

“No! If you’re gonna act like a goddamn tool, you’re gonna sleep in the shed. I don’t want any more of this.”

“If we could just--”

“If we could what? Adore, I told you I can’t, and instead of backing off, you start pulling this shit in my house, at my work, every fucking day! Are you trying to humiliate me? Is this what you want?”

“It’s not, not at all!” Adore’s whine was somehow terrified and indignant at the same time. “I would never--!”

“What’s your goddamn endgame here?” Bianca asked sharply.

Adore sighed audibly. “I just wanted to feel good about something, Bianca. Don’t you see?” Her tone was pleading.

“I hope it felt really good, Adore, I hope it felt fucking incredible, because I’m not doing this anymore. I don’t have time for your drama, your stupid kid games, your goddamn footsie with Trixie - exactly how dumb do you have to be to think I don’t notice? Or maybe you don’t think so, but you just don’t give a flying fuck about anyone besides yourself?”

“Willow…”

“I’m done with you, Adore, and that is final.”

And just like that, Bianca’s made it to the finish line, tearing the ribbon and, presumably, Adore’s entire heart right along with it. The words hung heavy in the air, refusing to dissipate, and Katya had no choice but to break the tension by flinging the door wide open as a way of punctuating her arrival. It slammed on the opposite wall, and for a moment, Katya thought she had busted it. She assessed the scene before anything else. She glanced between Bianca and Adore. They both looked like death incarnate. Bianca, she knew, had been having rough nights. The bags hung heavy under her eyes. Their usually-impeccable, impervious manager was about to go through another rehearsal makeup-less and frazzled. Katya instinctively stepped in her direction, stopping just between both women. She flung her hands up.

“Listen, I love a good pussy fight, but it’s eight in the fucking morning and I can’t have sex if you’re yelling above my bedroom,” Katya took a long puff from her cigarette. “Seriously, break this shit up, party’s over.” Katya gestured between the two.

“How… how can you be done with me?” Adore’s eyes had skipped right over Katya, zeroing in on Bianca. Bianca kept her expression completely, almost eerily blank, harsh brown eyes barely looking at Adore’s tearful green eyes. Had she looked at Adore, she would have seen the haunted, lost look in her eyes, heard the hollow tinge of her voice. But Katya knew, she could practically taste the nasty words about to leave Bianca’s lips.

“Why don’t you just go back to Trixie?” she began. Katya had half a mind to interject right there. “Or have you already found someone to replace her as well?”

Katya glanced warily at Adore, whose eyes were welling with fresh tears to add to the tracks of mascara down her cheek. The blue-haired baby threw herself against the wall and choked on a sob. “I love you, Bianca,” Adore had trouble getting her words out. “Please don’t do this…” her voice broke.

“What part of ‘done’ do you telenovela stars not understand?” Katya sighed irritably.

Bianca’s lip was trembling, out of anger or sadness, Katya was unsure. But one thing she knew, Bianca couldn’t look Adore in the eye. “You know what? This is my goddamn club this week and I don’t wanna see either you or Trixie. Beat it. I want you out of here until the show tonight.”

“Bianca--” Adore began softly.

“Need help packing?” Came the hard response.

Adore let out another painful, pathetic cry. Katya wondered if she kept it up, Bianca would break. And as Katya was about to cross the room, to take Bianca away and part the two, the dressing room door opened slowly. Trixie’s blonde curls peeked out in the frame, and then her face. Katya prayed it was a trick of her mind, but Trixie’s wide-neck sweater showed the makeup-covered ghosts of fresh bruises. Katya could see them all over Trixie’s neck, her collarbone. Bianca was right; the girls had done a shit job of hiding their hickeys.

“Adore!” Trixie’s voice was soft, alarmed, and she scuttled towards Adore, immediately taking to a crouch to comfort her. Bianca couldn't tear her eyes away, neither could Katya. “Honey, are you okay?”

Something was… _different_. 

"Trixie, I--” Katya was cut off by Trixie’s barely audible words. Words directed to Adore and Adore alone. Trixie didn't even look at her. Trixie didn’t engage with anyone but Adore who insisted upon being a crumpled mess on the floor.

“Baby,” Trixie coaxed. “Come on, come on baby, you gotta get up, you gotta stop crying,” Trixie’s hand was caressing Adore’s tear-stained cheek, her other hand trying to pry the girl towards her, presumably to her feet. Katya was transfixed.

Adore’s tear-glazed eyes met Trixie’s and she let out another sob, tears flowing freely over her cheeks. Her head was shaking, she was sniveling. “No, no, Bianca’s gotta--”

“No,” Trixie said calmly. “No, Adore, c’mon, baby.”

Trixie glanced warily at Bianca, nearly startled herself when her eyes met Katya’s. As if Trixie didn’t even know she was there. It was a mere moment before she was on her knees, crowding against Adore. Trixie’s hand was resting, gently, on Adore’s thigh, her other one, tucking bits of blue hair behind her ear.

And then she leaned in.

Trixie kissed the few straggling tears away from Adore’s cheeks, on her forehead, her nose. Adore seemed to immediately fall into the ministrations. Like lovers, Katya suddenly knew. They were acting like lovers.

Katya thought the whole inside of her torso was twisting, swirling and contracting, like someone had just wound them around a fork. She couldn't imagine how Bianca’s world was crashing right now.

“You gotta get up for me, okay? We gotta get out of here.”

Despite Trixie’s penchant for anxiety, Katya thought she sounded so calm, so gentle. Adore made another wholly pitiful noise, but after some more coaxing and kisses from Trixie, she let the blonde lift her to her feet. Her arms immediately fell around Trixie’s waist in some excuse for a hug. They looked at one another and Katya’s eyes were burning, as if she were unable to tear them away. The intimacy she saw was only one replicated by Brianna and herself, by Bianca and Adore in their early days. Trixie smiled wearily, her hands coming to rest on Adore’s cheeks before placing the barest of pecks on her lips.

Adore made another noise, this one in a significantly lilted tone before Trixie tugged her away, into the dressing room.

Trixie didn’t look back. Neither did Adore.

No one was quite sure what had just happened.

Katya swore she could hear something snap.

Katya opened her mouth to speak. Her eyes darted over to the older woman who stood just as speechless, just as uncomfortable.

_“Did you just--”, “Are they--”, “Is Trixie even--”_

Katya had forgotten how to finish her sentences. She and Bianca exchanged glances with one other, with the doorway, the floor. It was as if they were taking turns. If Katya wasn’t so lost, she’d find it comical.

Bianca found only one sentence she was capable of saying:

“I need a goddamn drink--”

“Ru has scotch in his office,” Katya responded, her mouth dry.

“Yeah,” Bianca replied, already turning on her heels to get there. “Who the fuck do you think put it there?”

They were already walking down the hallway, around the corner to Ru’s makeshift space. Bianca slammed the office door once Katya had found herself inside the small room. It was a little cluttered at the moment. More than likely due to Ru’s absence, and Bianca had been a bit too preoccupied anyway. It was large enough for a desk, a few chairs, a cabinet, and some other useless bits of decor Katya had never taken to.  
Bianca collapsed into his desk-chair and reached down into one of the drawers to produce the aforementioned half-full bottle of scotch. She took a long sip, longer than necessary, Katya thought.

“You gotta put that out,” Bianca insisted, gesturing to Katya’s cigarette. “You know he hates that.”

Katya had honestly forgotten about it. But the sight of it made her crave its burn. Crave one last drag that would undoubtedly turn into another, and another, and another.

Katya shook her head and instead of stubbing the cigarette, as she was asked, she plopped herself by the small window in Ru’s office. She used whatever strength she had that morning to pry it open, and finally, finally she took a long drag of it. The smoke filled her lungs with a slow peacefulness, and when she blew it back out, she felt her nerve endings return.

Bianca didn’t argue.

Certainly not a great sign.

“They fucked, didn’t they?” Bianca said heavily. “They’re together, they’re fucking, they’re kissing, they’re together, now.”

Katya shook her head, smoke pouring from her lip as she spoke. “Bea, they’re just close--”

“Shut the fuck up, Katya.”

Katya scoffed into the window. “You used to let Adore fuck around with a whole bunch of people, Bianca. No wonder she’s--”

“You know why this is different,” Bianca’s voice had started to lose its luster, and Katya could hear her unscrewing the lid to the bottle again. Finally, disappointedly stubbing out her cigarette, Katya maneuvered her way beside Bianca and looped her arm around her shoulders. Bianca, instinctively, fell into the embrace, gave a low sigh.

Katya had known Bianca since before she’d gotten clean. And say what you will, about her wit, about her biting attitude, Bianca was one of the best friends Katya had ever had. One of the best people Katya has ever known. She was just a big teddy bear on the inside, especially for those she cared about. Bianca had walked her through the early days of her sobriety with kindness, compassion, with everything she could give.

_“Don’t tell anyone I’m being kind, but you need a lot of help, kid. You’re a goddamn disaster.”_

She was just a scared kid. Twenty, high out of her fucking skull, and ready to fling herself off the Tobin Bridge. But despite all that, Bianca made her laugh. Bianca made her feel like she was gonna be okay. Eventually, Katya was okay.

“I ran into Raja,” Bianca said softly. Her fingers were playing with the bottle, twisting and fiddling with the lid. Katya reached for it, took it right out of her hand, and set it aside.

“Wait, when?” Katya peeked up

Bianca made a come-hither gesture at Katya, asking for the bottle once more. Katya made a reluctant noise, but handed the bottle back over.

“I brought her home, Katya. I was gonna get off and not give two shits about it, and…” Bianca ran a hand through her black hair. “And, and I just fucking couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about Adore.”

Katya hummed in understanding. “What’d you do?”

“Asked her to leave, like a fucking cunt.”

"Oh, that’s--”

“Not even the worst part,” Bianca took a swig of amber liquid as if it was grape juice, not even blinking. “I was fucking crying, Katya.”

“Girl…”

“I invited my ex over for sex and she had to fucking comfort me while I was crying because I’m not over my current ex who is sleeping with your fucking girl.”

Katya rolled her eyes. “Hey, she’s not my--”

“Oh, please. She eye-fucks you like I’ve never seen. She eye-fucks you even though she literallym fucks Adore,” Bianca said, her tone contemplative. “I should actually punch her in the face just for that.”

Katya swiped the bottle from Bianca’s hands and began fiddling with the cap. She could really use a drink. “No, she doesn’t.”

“You eye-fuck her, too. Brianna in the room and all.”

The weight of the bottle between Katya’s fingers was quickly becoming very tempting, the scotch glinting pleasantly in the morning light. It wasn’t late enough to drink, but for Katya, it was much too late. She was mesmerized with it, with the promise of dulling whatever this is, just a little. As one hand came to unscrew the cap, another, darker hand swiftly swiped it away from her. Katya’s eyes followed Bianca’s movements, finally meeting her knowing gaze. Five years of sobriety was nothing to fuck around with; certainly not over Trixie’s literal fucking around.

“Anyway,” Bianca continued as if nothing major had almost happened. “I was… pretty drunk. I actually drunk-texted Adore, which is what started this,” she made a general gesture with her hand, “whole thing.” Katya thought her voice had softened, saddened.

“Saying…?”

“It just said come home,” the bitterness had returned, as quick as it had gone. Katya raised an eyebrow, to which Bianca responded with an eye roll. “I know, I know. I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Well, do you, then?” Katya demanded.

“What?”

“Do you want her to come home?”

The question hung between them, unanswered, as Bianca was suddenly very busy examining the remains of the golden liquid in the bottle, tilting it slowly from side to side. It was barely 8:30, and both women were already knee-deep in shit. Bianca’s fingers traced the outlines of the label as she let out a sigh.

“She’s fucking Trixie,” she finally answered, as slowly and deliberately as she could, having drunk quite a bit already.

“Yeah, and she’s spent the last few months in California fucking God knows who.”

“Thanks for the reminder, I needed that,” Bianca started to bring the bottle to her lips, but then thought better of it and placed it on Ru’s desk. “I don’t know, Katya, it just hurts to have to look at it,” her voice cracked, just a little. “She’s nineteen, I get it. She’s a fucking kid. Even if she does come home, how long will it last? She’s just gonna go back to California anyway.”

“But remind me again,” Katya chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully, “what’s stopping you from going there with her?”

Bianca paused. She didn’t look at Katya, didn’t look up from the bottle of scotch resting before her on the desk. It was a question that needed to be asked, an epiphany Bianca needed to have.

Bianca sighed - no, scoffed - and mumbled. “It’s not that easy.”

“Why isn’t it? Bianca--”

“Katya,” Her tone had a bit of a warning to it. “Honestly, the only thing more pathetic than being the 32-year-old playing footsie with the dumb kid is being the 33-year-old following her across the damn country,” she said bitterly. “And don’t even get me started on the 40-year-old who gets dumped by the young rockstar who realized she can do so much better,” Bianca’s thirst won at that point, as she grabbed the bottle and emptied its contents entirely without so much as flinching.

“Bea…”

Bianca scoffed again. “I told her she was humiliating me… honestly, I’ve been doing a really great job at humiliating myself.”

Katya’s been down that road with Bianca in the past, and she’s always tried to stop before it got this bad. But there was something about that morning, about Bianca’s earlier words, that just hit too fucking close to home this time. Look at us, we’re whipped by two nineteen-year-olds. Honestly, fuck. Bianca was swirling the empty bottle, looking every bit the cautionary tale Katya was beginning to see her as. This definitely wasn’t a fix their relationship because you see yourself in it Grey’s Anatomy moment, this was more of a run for the damn hills while you still can or at least hide in the cupboard before Jason gets here situation. Oh. Now her inner monologue was even sounding like Trixie. Fucking fabulous.

Bianca’s bitter silence turned into a mirthless laugh, her dimples somehow inappropriate for the moment. “What, Zamo, are you finally getting it?” She seemed to find it hysterical.

“Go fuck the kid, Del Rio,” she got up, a bit unsteady on her feet. This was definitely not going to be that day. Not if she could help it, and in spite of everything, Katya thought it might still be salvageable. Her mind wandered back to her apartment, where her own princess was waiting to get fucked, just a few feet away from where Trixie was undoubtedly still kissing Adore’s tears away. She wasn’t stupid, she knew everything was a mess, but at this point, the heartbeats racing in her chest indicated that she had too much to lose. For once in her stupid life, Yekaterina Zamolodchikova found a rabbit hole she had zero desire to go down.

“It really can’t be more pathetic than any of this,” Katya added softly, gesturing at Bianca. She cleared her throat. “It’s nine in the damn morning on a Thursday,” she added, forcing brightness on her tone, her mind filling with soft, age-appropriate breasts and an ass that was practically made for her hands. “Maybe things can still look up,” she turned on her heels to leave, ears already ringing with moans that have yet to escape her lover’s lips.

✘✘✘

Katya came home ravenous that day.

“C’mon,” she whined, her fingers walking up and down Brianna’s bare thigh. “C’mon, I gotta leave in two hours and you’re gonna spend them writing about the gays?”

Brianna was sitting pretty amongst the tousled sheets of the bed, Katya by her side. She had remained nearly unmoving in Katya’s absence, and had barely gotten dressed for the day. Katya couldn't say she was disappointed. It had soothed Katya in ways unspeakable, just to see Brianna laid out and happy just the way she wanted her. Needed her. It made her forget the day’s hardships almost in an instant. Bri looked like an angel, clad in one of Katya’s old t-shirts and her underwear, laptop resting neatly on her thighs. She suppressed a smile as Katya poked and prodded, her fingers clacking incessantly at the keys of her computer. “I have a deadline, you shithead,” she laughed.

“What’s the point of being a queer writer,” Katya’s voice was breathy as she began kissing under Bri’s ear, moving slowly down her neck, “if you give up on such an amazing opportunity at some genuine hands-on experience?”

Brianna rolled her eyes, but the typing ceased. Katya quickly closed the laptop and moved it away, pulling her princess in for a kiss. “Mmm, I suppose it is a mitzvah,” Bri laughed into the kiss. She took Katya’s lower lip between her teeth and sucked on it as Katya impatiently tugged on the hem of her t-shirt, “but I can’t, Kat, I have to finish this shit,” her eyes traveled towards the discarded laptop.

“C’mon, you can work during the show, you don’t even have to come tonight,” Katya said against Brianna’s pale skin. “You only have to come now, I promise,” she whispered seductively, her fingers trailing beneath the fabric of Brianna’s shirt.

Brianna fell out of the embrace with a laugh. “Knock it off, Kat! I have work, I’m an adult,” she huffed, “who is apparently sleeping with a fourteen year old boy.”

Katya made a rather annoyingly pitiful groaning noise and rolled over into the mattress, face buried in her pillow so any sound she made was muffled. It was an irritating display, Katya knew.

But if it got her laid…

“Oh my God, Katya, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Katya grinned into the sheets, turned her head to face her lover with the shittiest grin she’d ever managed.

“No you won’t, I’ll waste you,” Katya leaned forward and brought Brianna’s face in for a soft kiss.

“I’m a black-belt, remember?” Brianna responded against her mouth, her peevishness suddenly gone. She returned the kiss with fervor, her hand resting gently on Katya’s cheek.

“Why write about the gays when you can fuck a real one, huh?” Katya teased.

“Shut up,” Brianna’s hand danced teasingly along the waistband of Katya’s leggings. “How much time do we have?” Her voice had dropped ever so slightly, her eyes darkened, and Katya could feel that tell-tale warmth between her legs. Being with Brianna was like being a switch that was always ready to be flicked. One moment, they could be laughing breathlessly into one another; the other, someone was being pinned against the wall as they were mercilessly ravished.

Katya had decided that being with her was her best life-decision yet.  
Well, that and five years of sobriety was pretty good, too.

“Enough,” Katya promised breathily. She grabbed Brianna and pulled the smaller girl against her, lifting her so Brianna was straddling Katya’s waist.  
In truth, she probably was going to be late again. If she and Brianna got going, as they always did, Katya found it rather difficult to stop. She remembered the first time she walked in late, the passing comments, observations, they way the light had kind of died from Trixie’s eyes.

_Trixie’s eyes. _Not this fucking shit again._ _

__

Katya’s thoughts were interrupted by Brianna swiftly discarding her t-shirt, revealing her gorgeous naked body, making Katya’s heart stop. _Trixie. who?_

Brianna began a slow roll with her hips, using her leverage and weight on Katya to move. And, God, if this wasn’t a fucking sight. Brianna’s curls tossed in a thousand different directions, her lips slightly swollen, pouty, beautiful. Her breasts were bouncing and her eyes closed as little noises, gasps passed her lips from the friction against Katya, who had lifted herself to take a nipple into her mouth, tongue flicking across the sensitive nub.

“Katya, Jesus fuck!” Apparently, Jewish curses failed to suffice here. Brianna moaned and whimpered for Katya as she continued to suck on one breast while her hand was massaging the other.

“God,” Katya gasped against Brianna’s breast, the sound escaping in a short sort of laugh. “And they pay me to perform--”

Brianna sounded breathless. “Oh my God, you ruin everything--” Despite her words, Brianna kept up her motions, her noises, even picking up the pace.

Katya laughed softly to herself. “I like to think I enhance the experience, make it--”

Brianna leaned over Katya, half to prop herself on the pillows by her lover’s head, the other half to cover Katya’s goddamn mouth. Katya laughed into her hand, but it was short-lived as Brianna went lower, slowly trailing kisses and soft bites over Katya’s neck, on her breast - over her top, unfortunately - and lower yet, down to her exposed, flat belly. It was far from their first time, but Katya could barely breathe as Brianna reached the waistband of her tights, tugging at it with her free hand. Considering her situation, Brianna then decided to change her course of action; Katya had a few moments to breathe in the cool air as Bri’s hand was pulled from her face, before replacing it with something much, much better.

"Oh, that’s such a good way to get her to shut the fuck up” Violet’s bored voice chimed over the intimacy.

With exclaims of shock and irritation, Brianna rolled off Katya, nearly stumbled off the side of the bed with the force of it too. But she caught herself just in time, and with Katya’s arms steadying her, it seemed like she found her bearings.

“Violet, what the _fuck_!” Brianna growled, struggling to cover her naked body. Katya opened her mouth to join in on the accusations, but Violet’s response beat her to it.

“I need to talk to Kat,” Her voice suddenly hardened as she gestured lazily to the Russian, still sprawled out and in a small state of shock.

“Okay, well, Katya was a little fucking busy Violet, couldn’t you have, I don't know, knocked?!”

Katya, finally with some sort of cognitive ability, got up and picked Bri’s t-shirt off the floor, handing it back to her. “You don’t know Violet if you’d think she’d knock, baby,” Katya cracked an apologetic smile, especially when Violet chuckled from the doorway. Brianna did not look amused.

“Trust me, I don’t wanna know her,” she assured Katya, grabbing the t-shirt and putting it on as fast as humanly possible.

Katya felt a swell of anxiety in her chest. She felt the room tightening a bit and she mumbled a small apology to her very angry girlfriend.

“Well, I don’t wanna know you either, Barbie - oh, sorry - Trixie? Er - what’s this one’s name, again?” Katya knew that catlike grin was spreading across Violet’s face, infiltrating the room and ruining Katya’s relationships with everyone in it.

“Vi - Violet - what do you want?” Katya demanded softly.

“Private, mama. Or does Life in Plastic think I’m here to seduce you?”

Katya could have laid down and died. At least Trixie pretended to like Brianna. With Violet it’s… it’s all on the goddamn table. There was no subtext with this one, only text, written in bold, black letters over clear white paper, which she then crumples and tosses away like it means absolutely nothing. Right into the trashcan, along with the rest of Katya’s squandered hopes and dreams.

Katya, in need of guidance, looked to her girlfriend. If she got up and went with Violet, this could be the end of their relationship as she knew it - worst case scenario, of course. If she told Violet to fuck all the way off, well… well, Violet would never let that happen. So.

“I’m coming,” And with that, Katya rose to her feet and followed Violet out of the room. She didn’t look at Brianna, instead, she only heard the soft creak of her mattress as she undoubtedly threw herself on top of it.

“Jesus Christ, Kat, she’s a goddamn gem.” 

"What do you want, Violet?” Much like her stability, Katya’s patience was running thin. She imagined she’d already let Brianna’s run out.

“Ugh, I thought you were eating her cunt, not metamorphosing into it. Maybe Trixie is right.”

“Trixie said that?” Suddenly, Katya felt like she was on fire. Like every nerve was angry with her. And if she… if Trixie actually--

“No, of course not. She’s grossly in love with you remember?” Violet checked her nails.

“Violet, why are you even here?” Katya asked, exasperated.

“Oh, well, Bianca needs you for the dress rehearsal,” Violet replied, as if her original mission had somehow slipped her mind, “she needs you to, and I quote, ‘direct Adore because I sure as hell am not going to do it and someone should make sure she isn’t planning to burn the house down.’”

"Burning the house-- wait, isn't that my job?"

✘✘✘

“I mean, almost done. Adore’s been helping me pack and I’m so ready to get out of that goddamn hotel. Does your roommate know?”

“I mean,” Aja laughed. “Yeah, I told her. She’s not really happy, but Chi Chi and I need a place, you know, girl?”

“Is she gonna be okay with Adore staying there until she goes back to Cali?”

Katya wasn't one to eavesdrop. She doesn't necessarily like to spy, connive, but Jesus, this, this is different.

Trixie was moving?

And Katya didn’t even know about it?

Where the fuck had she been?

Trixie and Aja had been talking forever now. Huddled side-by-side as Trixie _ _ _ _ _ _f______ ixed her hair, her makeup. Adore was practically strewn in Trixie’s lap, fiddling with the ends of her locks. They looked like a bunch of juvenile, gay kids, hanging outside a Hot Topic, or something.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Katya found herself saying, calling from across the room. “Trixie, you’re moving?” All eyes turned to Katya, scrutinizing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Trixie shrugged. “I don’t know? We haven’t talked in forever, Kat. You’re always with Bri,” Her fingers tangled in the roots of Adore’s hair, causing the blue-haired girl to lean into her touches.

“Oh,” Katya scratched the back of her head.

How had she gotten so out of the loop? Especially with her best friend. With Trixie.

“You didn’t tell Katya?” Aja slung an arm around Chi Chi. “We figured Katya would be moving your shit for you. Girlfriends and all,” he teased.

Trixie laughed, actually laughed. “It’s weird, right? I think sometimes Katya forgets to come up for air when she’s in between Bri’s legs.”

Adore and Aja burst into bright laughter while Trixie looked on proudly. Katya would’ve laughed too, if she knew how to respond? Something so significant happened so quick and… and Katya had no idea.

"So,” Adore droned. “Are we gonna throw a party when we move in, baby?” she was giggling, watching for Katya’s reaction with a look of defiance.

“Yeah because we all know what you two get up to at a party,” Aja screeched.

“Honey,” Trixie laughed. “Oh, honey, we don’t need a party to get up to that!”

_Oh, thank you for that lovely mental image, Trixie. Thank you._

“Fucking party,” Adore licked her lips, puckered them for Trixie’s own. And Trixie complied, placing a soft, simple kiss on Adore’s painted-nude mouth.

“So, are you two… like…” Ginger waved his hand lazily between Trixie and Adore. A generic gesture that had Katya festering. She had stopped her makeup completely, just to watch the two girls.

“Having fun,” Trixie answered, not even bothering to stop the flick of her eyeliner to reply.

Adore hummed in agreement, her hands now taking to examining the various makeup products Trixie had laid before her.

God, they looked like a couple.

Such a _fucking_ couple. 

“When are you moving into the new place, Trix? Have you met her roommate?” Kim took to taking a seat beside Aja, thankfully not blocking Katya’s self-destructive view.

“No, I haven’t met her yet, but I trust Aja,” Trixie assured. “Sunday, we’re gonna spend all day moving in so, I’m sure I’ll get to know her then. She sounds nice, she likes pink,” Trixie smiled into the mirror. “Baby, you gotta get up, I need to get dressed,” Trixie nudged softly at Adore’s hip.

Baby.

_Baby._

_Stop calling her baby._

Adore, although reluctant, began to move away. She moaned and groaned, and Katya could feel all the heavy tightness in her chest release, slowly unfurl as Trixie swung her legs back to the floor, sauntered over to the rack where Trixie grabbed a little pink nightie, negligee…

Katya needed a fucking smoke.

She hobbled out of her seat, made her way out of the dressing room, and to the back alley where she immediately lit up. She sucked in, felt the smoke fill her, calm her, allowing her to breathe for a moment. Her emotions were everywhere. Everywhere. Everything was hitting her at once and she wasn’t ready for this goddamn freight train.

She was burning through her second cigarette when Adore appeared in the dark alleyway beside her, lighting up her own to burn. Katya didn’t speak first, if she did, she would’ve snapped.

“So,” Adore began. Her hair was curled, tousled prettily around her face and shoulders. She had ripped fishnets on underneath a rather large, pink sweatshirt that Katya recognized to be Trixie’s. “How’s your girl?” she asked after taking a drag.

Katya took one long drag from her cigarette and looked Adore in the eye. “I don’t think my girl is the girl you should be worried about.” Katya’s voice sounded rough from the smoke, the silence.

“I’ve lost track of which one you’re referring to. The one you’re sleeping with or the one I’m sleeping with?” Adore cocked her head a little. Katya thought she was looking right through her.

Katya kicked against some of the loose gravel in the alleyway, her heel making a pleasant scraping sound with the pavement. She was going to want a third cigarette.  
Katya wrapped her lips around the bum, if she focused hard enough, she thought she could hear the ash burning away. Much like her patience at the moment.

Katya had no idea how to respond to her. Not true.  
She had a million ways to respond to Adore right now, and her hands were twitching, trembling. She had to incite some sort of restraint within her. Katya was known for making things real ugly, real fast.

“You mean, the pussy you’ve been burying your face in while the one you really want is holding out?” Katya was biting now, her eyes leveling with Adore from across the alleyway. She watched the younger girl’s expression change. She thought she saw a bit of anger for a moment. But then, Adore looked all too smug.

Adore placed her cigarette between her lips. She was oddly calm, unshaken. “You’d know a little about that, wouldn’t you?”

Katya was seething, but in that calm, dark sort of way. In the way that no one knew what was going to come next.

“I mean, it’s fine. It’s not like Bianca’s been alone this entire time,” Katya punctuated her sentence with a blow of smoke towards Adore. She watched the wind carry it away, floating high above the buildings.

“I’m-- what?” Adore stammered.

Katya’s words finally hit a nerve; this wasn’t a game anymore. Katya’s anger dissipated.

“Shit, shit, uh,” Katya flicked her ash off the end of her light. “Adore, it’s not really what it sounds like--”

Katya was scrambling for words, something to heal the situation, or at least a goddamn band-aid to patch it up. She couldn’t tell Adore the whole truth, she couldn’t string Bianca out like that. But she didn’t think she could continue letting Adore look like a puppy someone ran over.

“She… Bianca slept with someone?” Adore’s mouth hung open, voice broken but not whiney. This wasn’t nineteen-year-old fuckery, it was actual, deep hurt. All Katya could hear was the hurt in Adore’s voice.

“No, shit, listen. I was just trying to hurt you and--,” Katya ran a clammy hand through her hair, effectively mussing it in all the wrong ways. “God, I know that’s really fucking shitty. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have said that.”

Adore's face suddenly shifted, she looked dead in Katya’s eyes with an all-too-knowing expression. She knew why Katya was trying to hurt her. Katya shifted beneath her gaze, her stomach jolting and threatening to fall out of her ass.  
“Oh,” Adore let out a long, withheld breath. She was meeting Katya’s eyes with an understanding sort of intensity that made Katya feel like the world was slipping from beneath her. Any hope of gaining her bearings was lost in the crumble. “Uhm, I get it,” Adore said with a nod. “It’s okay, Kat, I really get it,” They both noticed Adore’s cigarette was nearly gone, burnt to the butt.

“Maybe… you should try talking to Trixie a little more, Katya. She misses you a lot, too.” Adore said quietly as she stubbed her cigarette out on the brick-wall beside them.

Katya had opened her mouth to reply, but Adore was already tearing open the side-door.

“See you out, there, Kat.”

Katya, as was a pattern these days, was left with no clue about what had happened to her. She did miss Trixie. She missed feeling like she had someone at her side, attached to her hip. She missed having that friend while she worked so she could laugh, tease, hug. Anything. She didn't just miss Trixie, she missed everything that came with Trixie.

After a moment of silence, after Katya was sure Adore would be gone, she flung open the backstage door, only to run into Brianna. It startled Katya, who was still vibrating with stress, but then Brianna’s lips broke into a beautiful smile, and suddenly Katya’s tension was gone.

She was home again.

Brianna was clad in a tight, black leather dress, strapless with a sweetheart neckline. In Katya’s eyes, she looked breathtakingly beautiful. Katya’s mind flashed to their earlier encounter, Brianna’s sweetness practically tangible on her tongue. It was mere hours ago but with all the tension backstage felt like much longer. Katya had made sure to kiss all the bruises she’s left in her wake, now disappointingly covered in layers of makeup and concealer; Brianna wasn’t like Trixie at all, Katya suddenly thought, right out of the blue. What had happened with Brianna was intimately kept between them, not put on full display for the entire world to see and know.

_Sometimes Katya wished they would just know._

She wrapped two possessive arms around Bri’s waist and pulled her in for a kiss. Katya, not always a fan of words, conveyed everything she could by backing Brianna into the adjacent wall and smudging her red lipstick all over Brianna’s pink without a thought. She might’ve been imagining it, but she could still smell herself all over the girl’s body, and she loved it. Deepening the kiss, she angled her head and placed a thigh between Brianna’s. Katya’s hand trailed over the pale skin, her thumb pressing into a fresh, hidden bruise. Brianna whimpered into Katya’s lips.

Brianna was first to pull away, ending their kiss with a sweet laugh.

“What the hell was that about?” the shorter girl asked, still dazed from their lip-lock. Her arms looped lazily around Katya’s neck, fingers tangled in her already messy hair. Bianca will behead Katya and serve her skull as a bar snack, and Katya was almost willing to pay that price.

“I am so fucking happy to see you,” Katya hissed into the girl’s neck. “So happy to see you.” She felt the soft plains of Bri’s curves, the supple flesh of her ass beneath that stunning black dress. God, Katya loved her. Katya fucking loved her so much. Every inch. “And I really needed you,” she added quietly.

Brianna made a soft ‘oh’ noise and Katya felt her tighten her grip, her delicate hands drawing little circles on Katya’s lower back.

“You’re gonna do great tonight, baby,” she whispered. “And I’m gonna be right up front, cheering you on.”

Katya closed her eyes, willed her lashes not to stick as she breathed in every bit of Brianna. She wanted nothing more than to fuck her blonde bombshell right there and then, as the audience was starting to gather by the entrance; they were all there to see a show, weren’t they?

Instead, she whispered softly, sweetly into Brianna’s ear. “I love you so fucking much.”

Brianna shuddered with the pleasure of Katya’s breath against her ear, her palm fisting the fabric of Katya’s outfit, pulling her closer. Katya could practically feel her smile, setting fire to the world around them.

“I love you, too, Katya.”

✘✘✘ 

Katya’s tights kept riding up, and if they continued at this rate, she was going to rip them off before her set. And it was hot. So fucking hot she was nearly dripping in the wing. Even Trixie had little beads of sweat across her brow. She used her pretty, manicured hands, with nails that were shorter than usual, to swipe the sweat away.

Ugh, she needed to stop looking at Trixie.

Backstage was frazzling. Last minute props, chairs, poles, costumes, all flitting and flying from person to person in anticipation of tonight. Katya was less than relaxed herself, but not for the reasons everyone thought.  
As had become a habit for the Russian, she moseyed over to Bianca, who was standing alone at her little podium backstage. She had her mic, her cue list, some of the jokes she had scribbled in last-minute, and a bottle of beer resting in the corner.

“Should you really have that?” Katya asked. She tried to pass it off as a joke, as a plain, playful jab. But Bianca was in no mood.

“Those who can enjoy responsibly should, so I am.” Bianca took a sip.

“I don’t think this is responsible. You’ve been drinking since--”

“Because you know so much about drinking responsibly,” Bianca quipped sharply, her long nails scratching across the top of the podium, across her papers.

Katya huffed out tiredly and swiped more sweat off her brow. “Always a pleasure to speak to you, Bianchor.”

“We should be in places,” Bianca said firmly. “Especially you. Your Barbie is waiting for you.”

“Which--” Katya clamped her mouth shut, her tongue tucked painfully between her teeth. Her lips twitched, nearly into a scowl. Bianca had a deeply unamused look. “I don’t open,” Katya reminded her haughtily. “You wrote the cue list--”

“Katya, if you don’t get the fuck out of my face I’m going to _break open_ your damn skull.”

 

Katya opened her mouth to respond, but instantly thought better of it. Bianca was too far gone anyway, and with a shrug, Katya turned back towards the costume rack, her fingers itching for another cigarette. But the lights in the house were dimming, the crowd outside bursting into excited applause. She saw Trixie, standing alone in her peripheral. She was fiddling with her hands nervously. She looked so utterly nervous, now.

Katya stepped towards her, her nerves settling deep in her stomach. She wanted to repair their relationship, and God knows Trixie wasn’t going to let her. Even so, Adore’s words swirled and echoed in her head.

_Trixie misses you a lot, too._

“Hey,” Katya said softly, her voice barely audible over Bianca’s voice onstage. 

Trixie looked up from where she was fidgeting. “Oh, hey, Kat.”

Katya put her hand on Trixie’s to stop the fidgeting. Trixie’s eyes bore into hers, questioning. Katya’s heart broke a little; there used to be no questions between them, only a long, never-ending conversation. Trixie used to just know what Katya wanted, but now, she was going to have to just come out and say it. “I miss you,” she whispered. She didn't know how else to preface this conversation than with the truth.

Suddenly, it’s like Trixie was at full attention, anything else she was thinking of completely cleared from her mind.

“I miss you too,” And like that, it felt like a few of their walls had broken down. Like some sort of progress had been made. Trixie’s hands turned over in Katya’s and she laced their fingers together, squeezed like she was silently promising to never let go.

This was a different Trixie, Katya knew, but she felt so familiar, and Katya felt herself surrender to these well-known movements, having rehearsed this role a million times with Trixie. Her heart fluttered hopefully, although experience taught her that this would be a very short-lasting moment, a green light in an endless string of reds.

“Goddamn, took ya long enough!” Trixie blurted unexpectedly. It set Katya into fits of muffled laughter, which Trixie found herself joining in on. Even through their clasped hands, Katya couldn’t mistake one of her favorite sounds.

“Oh, my God, you’re such a dumb bitch, Trixie Mattel.”

“Says the bitch with a cigarette necklace and babydoll-limb-hairclips,” Trixie gave Katya a playful shove.

“Well, you know what? Brianna fucking loves them!” Katya crossed her arms defiantly and watched as Trixie rolled her eyes at the notion.

“Brianna also likes to eat the cobwebs out of your pussy, so I don’t think we’re dealing with someone who has great taste,” Katya bit down on her first, forced back the torrents of laughter threatening to spill.

“You goddamn asshole. You goddamn asshole!” she wrapped her arm around Trixie’s shoulder, pulled her in like old times. “I fucking missed you, rotted cunt!”

Katya could’ve stopped and just looked at Trixie, just enjoyed their friendship for one moment more.

But she couldn’t.

“What’re you guys laughing at?” Adore’s voice chimed over the commotion, over Bianca’s voice onstage, and over their laughter. She was smiling, but specifically at Katya. She understood.

“How bad Brianna’s taste is,” Trixie gestured wildly to Katya’s entire form, her grin bright and ever-present.

“You love me. You love my taste, my clothes, my hair, you love all of this, bitch. Don’t even try it!” Katya argued, her arm slipping around Trixie’s waist. She was more comfortable that way. Adore cocked a curious eyebrow, but her grin was ever-present.

“You know what I’d love? If you--”

“Hey, Russia!” Bianca’s voice cut sharply, quietly through the commotion of the wing. “You’re on in a minute, get the fuck over here!”

Katya huffed, but her grin was ever-present. “See ya out there, kiddos. Don’t miss me too much.”

Katya sauntered on stage. She was feeling… better. Better than before, better than she had felt all day. All week.  
And when Katya felt good, the audience felt good.  
Katya spun herself around the pole, keeping things relaxed, keeping things cooled down for now.  
It could’ve been the lights, but Katya was sure Brianna’s eyes had already darkened.  
Feeling a sudden burst of motivation, Katya hoisted herself on to the metal. Her piece started relaxed, into the soft build of the beat and the bass. She loved the feeling of the cool metal on her thighs, her chest, the cut-out in her top. The crowd was hollering, but Katya could only see Brianna, seemingly squirming in her seat.

_”You are my angel..._

She mouthed the words to Brianna, eyes trained on her - and her alone - as she moved. She lowered herself into a slow, slow split in front of the pole, a needy feeling setting in her stomach, needing to be filled. Brianna seemed to share the sensation; Katya could just tell by the look on her face, by the shift in her posture. Her smile disappeared, gave way to a far more primal look.

 _...Come from way above to bring me love…_  
_Her eyes, she's on the dark side…_  
_Neutralize every man in sight…_

Katya curled back against the stage, flashed her legs open for Brianna. The adrenaline rushed through her body, all down her arms and legs, straight to her cunt. The audience hollered, called out to her, egging her on in every movement.

Katya tossed her head back, felt her hair tickle the back of her neck, her shoulders, and when she turned her head over to the wing, she saw Trixie. She was standing there, blonde hair shining in the stage lights, mouth slightly agape. Their eyes met; Katya’s lingered, and without enough thought, she licked her lips slowly, deliberately.

Trixie laughed wildly and Katya couldn’t help but grin and give her a mischievous wink. She pulled herself off the floor, swiveled her hips, tossed her short hair about and around her head.

_To love you, love you, love you..._

She pointed, deadass to Brianna in the audience, didn’t wait for a reaction before she lifted herself back on the pole. The tug in her muscles was almost unbearingly pleasurable. She clamped her thighs around the metal, the friction, the pressure doing worlds for her arousal. She bent backwards, let her upper body hang briefly. It was a killer move, one Katya knew would drive her people wild.

Katya could feel the song slowing, feel it approaching its end. Katya wasn’t necessarily ready to be out of the spotlight yet, and, with a few more beats to the song, Katya began descending the center-steps of the stage, into the house where her lover awaited. Brianna was waiting in a little seat up-front, eyes wide with desire. Katya held out both hands to her, lifting Brianna to her feet, and gave her a slow spin. Katya’s gaze was slow and attentive, and she adored every second of Brianna, beautiful in the black leather getup Katya ached to rip off of her small frame. Beautiful, smart, kind, funny, sexy; Katya felt like she could eat Brianna Cracker right there and then.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, Katya tugged her lover in for a passionate kiss, marking her as hers. The crowd whooped and hollered. Katya’s hands traveled up from Brianna’s waist, over her chest, and her collarbone, just so she could hold her jaw and pull her closer. Brianna’s arms looped around Katya’s strong neck. There was a brief moment that Katya was afraid she’d be unable to stop, but Brianna, ever the controlled one, ceased their kiss. She pulled away slightly, smiling up at Katya, and then laughing while the crowd applauded around them. Her nails dug into Katya’s skin, leaving tiny crescents on her flesh.

Katya loved it.  
She loved being seen.

“I love you so, so much,” Katya whispered into Brianna’s hair.

“I love you, too, baby.”

Brianna placed her hands on Katya’s collarbones and began backing Katya towards her seat, slowly, slowly until Katya felt the back of her knees hit the chair and she was collapsing into the seat. Katya laughed as Brianna lifted herself, staking claim to the tops of Katya’s thighs with her ass.

Bianca was strolling back on stage, looking thoroughly miffed. She walked to the mic stand, situated conveniently at the edge of the stage.

The first thing she said was:

“Well, I hope you all enjoyed Katya’s last performance here,” The crowd laughed, even Brianna was vibrating with mirth. Katya would’ve bowed if she didn’t have a snacc in her lap.

Bianca, very animatedly, rolled her eyes. “Well, this next performer is…” Bianca’s face switched to a scowl, but it was brief, and only noticeable to those who knew her. “Is our usually sweet little song bird. But - just like her recent behavior - tonight’s performance will be very, very slutty,” Katya stifled a laugh, but Brianna still slapped her arm. Trixie was probably shitting backstage. “Give it up for Miss Trixie Mattel!” The piano upstage was pushed downward by Chi Chi and Alaska. Ginger scurried over to the bench and situated himself before the keys. Katya didn’t think she’d seen this number yet.

Trixie sauntered on in her pink negligee, her nightie. Frilly, lacy, a lot more than what she usually got away with. She played with the audience, twirled around the chair someone had set centerstage for her. There were plenty of calls, hollers of her name. Katya had to bite her tongue so she wouldn’t join them.  
Brianna was bubbling in Katya’s lap, mumbling excited things about Trixie that Katya didn’t quite process. Trixie’s legs looked so beautiful, so long, shapely. They were closed, but Katya found herself imagining Trixie’s panties. Pink, naturally; probably perfect for tearing off with her teeth. Her hair was framing her face, over her shoulders, tossed and curly.

Katya wanted to ruin Trixie with her mouth.

“Katya?” Brianna whispered quizzically. “Didja hear me?”

 

_Fuck._

Katya opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Trixie’s voice.

 _“I lie in an early bed thinking late thoughts,_  
_Waiting for the black to replace my blue,_  
_I do not struggle in your web,_  
_Because it was my aim to get caught,_

Of _course_ , she was singing.  
Fiona _Fucking_ Apple. _Not a lesbian, my ass._

Trixie’s head was bowed, her fingers twirling and playing with the hem of her nightie. Clenching, tugging, twirling, her sparkly nails catching beneath the stage lights. It was mesmerizing.

 _But Daddy Longlegs, I feel,_  
_That I’m finally growing weary,_  
_Of waiting to be consumed by you,_

Trixie then looked up at the audience, her gaze going beyond Brianna and fixating intently on Katya, who was suddenly caught in those warm brown eyes; an overwhelming feeling of drowning in honey.  
Katya’s throat went dry. Trixie dragged her hand down her body, spread her legs and gave the audience a slight flash of her panties; they were so, so pink. Katya could have died. The audience was eating it up. Katya felt like the tension in the room had turned up several notches. Even Brianna, who was sitting in Katya’s lap, had stilled, watching Trixie intently.

Katya gripped the outsides of Brianna’s thighs, dragged her nails slowly over her skin.

___...Give me the first taste,___  
_Let it begin,_  
_Heaven cannot wait forever,_  
_Darling, just start the chase,_  
_I'll let you win,_  
_But you must make the endeavor…_

____

Brianna shivered pleasantly, using the leverage she had on Katya’s thighs to scoot back, to press her back right up against Katya’s chest. It gave Katya easier access, so she certainly wasn’t complaining. She started placing small kisses along Brianna’s pale shoulder, the crook in her neck, and upwards. Brianna made an attempt to restrain herself, but Katya was hitting all those hidden bruises, those hickeys again. Any self-control, Katya knew, was going to be a bit difficult.

 _“Oh, your love gives me a heart contusion,_  
_Adagio breezes fill my skin with sudden red,_  
_Your hungry flirt borders intrusion,_  
_I'm building memories on things we have not said…_

Trixie hit the floor, dragging herself to the edge of the stage, her breasts heaved to the top of her negligee, practically spilling out of the top. Katya stopped her movements just to watch. Trixie arched towards the audience.

 _Full is not heavy as empty_  
_Not nearly my love_  
_Not nearly my love_  
_Not nearly_

Brianna took a hold of Katya’s chin and kissed her with fervor, her tongue slipping past Katya’s lips hungrily. Bri kissed her in a way that told Katya she needed so much more, despite the circumstance. Katya could feel the song reaching its end, and, with great effort, parted their lips and smiled, turning her eyes back towards the stage.

_Give me the first taste,_  
_Let it begin,_  
_Heaven cannot wait forever,_  
_Darling, just start the chase,_  
_I'll let you win,_  
_But you must make the endeavour...”_

Trixie’s song faded to a close, Ginger played the last few chords while Trixie slowly, so slowly pulled herself back to her feet, on those pretty, pink kitten heels. The crowd, naturally, was hollering for her. Trixie blew a kiss to the audience, pointed to Ginger to signify his bow, and then took one herself. Katya could see Bianca wait impatiently in the wing. Trixie started towards backstage, her head bowed to, undoubtedly, avoid Bianca’s hard gaze. As she passed Bianca, passed almost into the wing, she stumbled. As if she had tripped over something. If it weren't for Ginger’s quick hands, Trixie would’ve eaten wood. Dirty looks were exchanged, and then Trixie disappeared.

Bianca looked far too satisfied.

Kim was up next after a spiel from Bianca. And truthfully, Katya wasn’t as interested as she probably should’ve been. Brianna used that time to grab them both some drinks (water, of course, for Katya).  
Kim was then replaced by Alaska on stage, but Katya's mind had practically slipped from the show by then. Katya's eyes were drawn to her love, fixated by her laughter, her smile. The way she clapped for the people Katya had learned to call friends, family. Her fingers tangled lovingly in Brianna’s pretty curls, her hands sometimes brushing over the back of her neck.  
Sometimes between sips, Brianna would meet her eyes. They’d share a kiss or two and Katya realized it was probably obnoxious, the PDA. After Alaska finished his piece, Violet took his place. Katya knew that she was a Burlesque queen, performing this kind of thing since she was eighteen. Even with Brianna, eyes shining so brightly and nudged so tightly against her, Katya still had a stirring.  
Violet used to be her best friend. And then, eventually, she became more.  
Katya regretted letting that happen. She regretted the pain she caused.

_“I'm so tired, of playing,_  
_Playing with this bow and arrow,_  
_Gonna give my heart away,_  
_Leave it to the other girls to play,_  
_For I've been a temptress too long,_

And Violet was hot.  
Katya didn’t ever regret that.

She just wasn't ready for them as item at the time, something both of them made peace with.  
But Goddamn, that never stopped Katya from looking at her. From being attracted to her. And there were several times she thought about asking Violet to fool around, especially on the night they made out. Before Trixie grinded her ass against her. Before Brianna was more than a passing thought. Brianna, who was sitting arms crossed and a tad bit huffy. Looks like she hadn't _quite_ forgiven Violet for her intrusion. 

_...Just,_  
_Give me a reason to love you,_  
_Give me a reason to be, a woman,_  
_I just want to be a woman,_  
_From this time, unchained..._

Violet was swiveling her hips, twirling against a piece of silk that Bianca had somehow gotten hung in the last week, or something. Katya imagined how the silk must feel, pressed against her perfect skin, tangling with her long, dark hair.

Katya used to miss that hair.  
Now, she prefers Brianna’s tousled curls. 

_We're all looking at a different picture,_  
_Through this new frame of mind,_  
_A thousand flowers could bloom,_  
_Move over, and give us some room,_  
_Give me a reason to love you,_  
_Give me a reason to be, a woman,_  
_I just want to be a woman,_

You used to date her, didn’t you?” Brianna asked.

“Yeah, for a while. But it got a little complicated,” Katya mumbled, her hand stroking soothing circles on Brianna’s thigh.

Brianna swirled her drink. Katya could feel her relaxing back into her chest, a soft sigh passing her lips. Katya smiled at the sound, the very weight of Brianna resting on her thighs, her hips, was beyond comforting.

“You are obviously doing much better now, good for you!”

Katya barked out a loud laugh, her arms tightening around Brianna like a loving vice. “Obviously.”

Bianca strolled onstage looking so downtrodden and tired, that Katya immediately knew what was coming up.

Adore was next.

“And for our penultimate act, we have an old friend of ours returning for a few nights. If you’re one of our regulars, you’ll undoubtedly know her from… from a little less than a year ago,” Bianca was struggling. She’d lost that spitfire, that bite and charisma their audience knew her so well for. “Welcome to our stage, Adore Delano,” Bianca strode backstage, and then there was a pause. A chair was placed centerstage, but Adore hadn’t appeared. It felt as if minutes had passed between the crowd’s applause, until finally, Bianca had stumbled back on stage, Adore pushing her (lovingly, of course), into the chair.

_Oh, fuck, no._

“Adore--” Bianca warned.

“Hit the song please!” Adore yelled from stage, her arm waving toward Ron in the booth.

Bianca made a futile attempt to stand, but Adore’s hands kept her firmly seated as the music began to swell in the house. Adore’s hands, slowly, slowly slid over Bianca’s shoulders, down her arms, where she laced their hands together. Adore’s over Bianca’s, as it always has been.

_“Well I want to take you as I find you,_  
_Imagine our clothes are on the floor,_  
_Feel my caress so soft and gentle,_  
_So delicate you cry for more,_

Adore sang the words softly, seductively by Bianca’s ear, kept herself pressed close to her former lover. Katya sat gobsmacked, mouth hanging open as she stared. Bianca was mumbling something, mouthing it to Adore, but Katya couldn’t quite make it out.

 _But you know baby,_  
_You know baby does it right,_  
_And you know baby does it right..._

The lights shifted on stage, a spot shined down, perfect on the two of them and Bianca’s eyes were glistening, tears visibly streaming down her face. Even from the side, Katya could see the way the tears tracked over her cheeks, her foundation. Katya's heart _burned_ for Bianca. She knew those weren't tears of pain, or reluctance, or sorrow. She knew Bianca would've done anything to be able to kiss and touch and look at Adore, she could see by the way her fingers twitched in longing. Katya doubted she really fought Adore to be on that stage at all.  
Katya’s heart lurched. She had half a mind to storm the stage, pull Adore off of her. Brianna could feel Katya’s entire body tense up and, transfixed by the performance on stage, placed a soothing hand on her arm.

_Universe inside of your heart,_  
_You gotta let me know,_  
_so you can be free baby,_  
_You wanted it so much,_  
_and now that it's over,_  
_You don't know what you want..._

Adore had maneuvered herself so she stood, clad in a few lacy garments, before Bianca. The older woman stared at Adore as if she held the entirety of Bianca’s fate in her hands. And maybe she did. She bent over, slowly, sensually, words spilling from her lips as she pried Bianca’s legs open and kneeled between them. Katya couldn’t see any more tears, but she didn't doubt that they were there.  
Katya kept boggling between the stage and Brianna, searching for some sort of answer, some sort of confirmation of fuck, this is really fucking happening right now.  
She watched as Adore, in a moment of pure, unadulterated affection, reached up and swiped one of those miserable tears from Bianca’s face. Katya thought she saw her mumble an 'I love you', and she thought maybe Bianca returned the sentiment. 

 _Put time in a capsule,_  
_Two minds consensual,_  
_Entwined to perfection,_  
_If we could..._

Just then, something clicked.

Adore continued her original movements, her hands slid up Bianca’s thighs, her body slotting between Bianca’s legs. She moved carefully up the length of Bianca’s body, until their faces were mere inches away from one another, until Adore had her hands cradling Bianca’s sad, sad face.  
Adore turned around, pressing her back against Bianca’s chest, practically pinning the other woman to the back of the chair with her ass properly seated on Bianca’s lap. Adore brought Bianca’s hand over her waist, her stomach, her breasts, until she was letting the older woman explore her, feel the way her form moved and begged for Bianca’s attention. Bianca didn’t need much more encouragement than that.

_Cuddle up close,_  
_Lay on my chest now,_  
_Listen my heart beats coming down,_  
_If you get tired you close your eyes now,_  
_When you wake up I won't be found,_  
_'Cause I know baby..._

Bianca commanded something to Adore, Katya could just see it in her face, the way the words left her lips. Adore maneuvered both her legs to straddle Bianca’s hips. And, just as Katya had knew she would, she rolled her hips down onto Bianca. Bianca’s posture shifted for a moment, her face remaining intense, but that didn’t stop Adore. With one hand posed on the chair behind Bianca and the other on Bianca’s waist, Adore grinded down. Slow, passionate. Once, twice, and…

And then Bianca was meeting those movements with grinds of her own. She was looking at Adore, eyes dark and primal, as if she was trying to pry the control right from Adore’s pretty fingers.

Katya wanted to slam Adore’s face right into the table.

Adore had enough stamina and focus (seriously, Katya didn’t know how she was singing and keeping up with Bianca) to take Bianca’s chin in her hand. To look at Bianca with all the sincerity and intensity Adore could muster.

_I know you're the nervous kind,_  
_With so much going on in your mind..._

Bianca leaned her forehead on Adore’s and slowly closed her eyes, relished in the familiar touch and feel of Adore’s skin, of her body, once again. Katya could practically see Bianca inhale Adore’s scent in; after five years of sobriety, she knew when someone was back on their drug of choice. It was a special kind of intimacy, one that canceled out the shouts and cheers of a whole audience, flowed between the two women.

___Universe inside of your heart,___  
_You gotta let me know,_  
_so you can be free baby,_  
_You wanted it so much,_  
_and now that it's over,_  
_You don't know what you want..._

____

Katya was almost 100% sure that clothes were gonna come off at some point, and when that moment happens, she was putting in her goddamn notice. She looked to Brianna who was watching the two, captivated by their intensity. Her hand found Katya’s and squeezed it tightly. Her lips found Katya’s ear and murmured, “I love you so much,” her breath hot against Katya’s skin.

_But let me tell you that, this time,_  
_I'm gonna make you mine,_  
_I won't let you go,_  
_'Cause I know, this time,_  
_I'm gonna make sure I look out for me..._

The promises left Adore’s ruby red lips as she moved with Bianca, the light illuminating her entire face. Bianca looked as if God herself were riding her. She reached out, hesitant at first, but eventually tangled a calculated hand in Adore’s blue locks. She tugged her down, brought her mermaid mere inches from her painted lips. Bianca’s eyes were wide, dark, ready to ravish the fuck out of Adore.

Katya really didn't need to be seeing this. She _really_ didn’t need to be seeing this. She could use that goddamn scotch. Five years of sobriety was proving to be way too difficult, right now. 

_'Cause you know baby,_  
_Well you know baby does it right,_  
_And you know baby does it right,_  
_You will only end up lost in loneliness,_  
_And wake up with the words already on your lips,_  
_So I'll let you go, baby,_  
_So I'll let you go..._

Bianca’s nails were visibly digging into Adore’s skin, marking her territory, probably leaving scratches for Adore to admire the next morning. She was practically pulling Adore down, pressing against her until there was no air left between them, until all that was left was them. Their movements, their touches, their almost-kisses.

_Universe inside of your heart,_  
_You gotta let me know,_  
_so you can be free baby,_  
_You wanted it so much,_  
_and now that it's over,_  
_You don't know what you want…”_

The song came to its abrupt close, but for a moment, their movements didn’t. Adore and Bianca were so close that Katya was sure they’d kiss. Katya was so fucking sure, for a moment, that this goddamn nightmare might be over.

But, that’s when Adore pulled away, albeit slowly.

The crowd called for them both, even Bianca’s fingers slowly untangled from Adore’s hair, her hand loosened from Adore’s hip. Katya watched, horrified, her hand squeezing Brianna’s hip with every anxious second. Even as Adore walked around the chair to make her exit offstage, her hand remained affectionately on Bianca’s shoulder.  
Finally, Adore removed her hand too, her face falling almost as soon as they parted.

But it was short-lived.

Bianca caught Adore’s hand and laced their fingers together. Adore looked back, her face suddenly bright, and alive, and it was like Katya was seeing her for the first time. Young, happy, carefree.  
She tugged Bianca off-stage into the wing, her lover in tow.

Katya sat, wide-eyed, slack-jawed, her whole heart just fucking trembling in her chest. She still wasn’t entirely sure what transpired and if anything was fixed because of it.  
God, she sure hoped so. God, she hoped so.  
Once the initial awe wore off, Katya was left slumped in her seat, Brianna still in her lap.  
Katya… Katya was suddenly very pissed off. She had wasted an hour of her time today, an hour she could’ve spent between Brianna’s legs, to prevent Adore from pulling this absolute horseshit. Katya didn’t know whether to tear her hair out or to smash her head into the nearest wall. Why were these fucking kids ruining her life?  
There was a moment of quiet as the audience began to calm itself. Bianca didn’t reappear and then suddenly, Alaska - awkward but determined - stepped up to the podium.

“Hiiiiiieee,” He laughed a little into the mic. “Well, we have one more performance left for ya, tonight. And since Bianca is… occupied,” he shook his head, a ridiculous smile on his face. “Allow me to introduce, for her final performance tonight, Miss Trixie Mattel!”

Trixie came onstage, clad in a long, disgustingly pink robe. It had ruffles around the sleeves, around the opening, and it was tied loose enough for Katya to see the very top of the neckline of her corset. She pushed the chair a little towards stage left before taking to her starting position, center stage.

The music started up, Katya thought she vaguely recognized the piece, but she didn’t care enough to pay attention. Honestly? She was just thankful to have Trixie to watch after what she’s dealt with today. Even with Bri sitting in her lap, Katya reclined against the back of the chair, and just intended to enjoy herself.  
However, with Trixie’s now-skilled hands running over her thinly-veiled body, Brianna was beginning to squirm. Just slightly with the beat of the music and the shimmer of Trixie’s pink nails beneath the lights.

And then, Trixie was moving towards the stairs.

_“If you want this,_  
_If you want this,_  
_If you want this, you're gonna have to ask,_  
_Nicely please,_  
_Yeah if you want this,_

Trixie, slowly, her eyes trained on Katya, began to descend the steps, straight into the house. Without hesitation, Trixie sauntered over to Katya, to Brianna who was vibrating with excitement.

_You're gonna have to ask me,_

Trixie, briefly, reached around Katya and pinched her chin affectionately. Simple, easy, kind of cute actually. Katya smiled teasingly.

_You're gonna have to ask me,_

And then she was pulling Brianna off Katya'a lap, into her arms.

_Wait, wait, wait._

_Wait, Jesus Christ, wait._

_What?_

She tugged Brianna up on stage, and with one final turn to Katya, she winked.

Trixie began exploring Brianna’s body, the words to her song spilling, dancing over her lips. Katya could hardly focus herself on the sight before her.

 _God_ , Katya thought, _Aren’t I the luckiest bitch in the world?_

 _...Your mouth waters,_  
_Stretched out on my bed,_  
_Your fingers are trembling,_  
_And your heart is heavy and red,_  
_And your head is bent back,_  
_And your back is arched,_  
_My hand is under there,_  
_Holding you up..._

Katya propped her elbow on the table, watching them both as she reclined with her legs splayed, like a goddamn lady. Brianna was biting her lip, looking at Trixie like she was fucking ready for anything. That sweet, sort of primal look that she’d come to fall in love with. She ran her hands over the collar of Trixie’s robe, straightening, twisting, wrinkling the pink silk beneath delicate fingers. Trixie had her tongue tucked between two teeth, and before well, anyone knew it, Brianna had shoved Trixie into the precariously placed chair where it skidded across the floor. For a moment, they both laughed. But it was barely heard, only Katya knew. She knew every inch of their faces when they laughed, when they giggled or smiled. It would be unbelievably endearing if Katya wasn’t so goddamn turned on with the way Cracker was getting on her knees, crawling towards Trixie and sliding a hand up her bare leg.

And something crossed Trixie’s face, an expression Katya hadn’t had the pleasure of viewing, of exploring. And, very suddenly, Katya wanted so much more of it.

 _I'll hold you up,_  
_And drive you all night,_  
_I'll hold you up,_  
_And drive you baby 'till you feel the daylight,_  
_I'll hold you up,_  
_And drive you all night,_  
_I'll hold you up,_  
_And drive you 'till you feel the daylight,_  
_That's right,_  
_That's right..._

Brianna was slowly traveling upwards, her hands bunching the robe up around Trixie’s hips, over her thighs, until her teeth clasped around the tie of Trixie’s robe and tugged. Tugged until the garment fell open and Trixie’s white corset, her white thigh-highs, and panties were revealed. She shrugged the robe off her shoulders, let it puddle on the chair under her ass and at their feet.

And holy FUCK, this had to be fucking Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa and every unnamed, lesbian, wicca holiday that the patriarchy had long erased from known calendars.

 _In the kitchen,_  
_In the shower,_  
_And in the back seat of my car,_  
_I'll hold you up,_  
_In your office,_  
_Preferably during business hours,_  
_'cause you know how I like it when there's people around,_  
_And I know how you like it,_  
_Yeah I know how you like it,_  
_I know how you like it when I tease you for hours..._

Katya watched with a vibrant intensity, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes blown and dark and Jesus, would it be so bad if she went up there and fucked them both? Or if she sat here and dry-humped her fucking chair like a messy slut?

_Jesus. Fucking. Christ._

She suddenly felt unbelievably hot, like the room was burning down with her in it. Like Trixie and Brianna were setting fire to every one of her limbs. Brianna’s hands went up to feel Trixie’s arms, the sides of her breasts, her waist, her hips; she was all over Trixie’s body, and Trixie threw back her head, curls flying around her beautiful, blissed-out face.

Katya reeled; she knew every one of these movements, could almost feel them on her own body. Her skin remembered what Trixie’s was now learning, and while she couldn’t see Brianna’s eyes, she knew their expression by heart.

 _...Yeah this has just begun,_  
_Because we haven't even gotten started yet,_  
_I haven't even,_  
_I haven't even tied you up,_  
_I haven't even turned you over,_  
_This is where I want to live,_  
_Right here between your hips,_  
_Where all the love you hold and hide,_  
_It's where it lives,_

Trixie hoisted herself from the chair, knocking Brianna back a step or two. In the swiftest movement Katya had ever seen out of Trixie, she took her girlfriend by the waist and spun them, placing the smaller blonde in her chair, spreading her legs open and crawling between them, her back arched. She placed both hands on Bri’s thighs, blowing hot air on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

Katya shivered as if it were her own. She was well aware of the optics of this show; the audience around her was going nuts with the Barbie-on-Barbie action, but Katya could only hear the song, breathy and hot.

_So fucking hot._

_Right here between your hips,_  
_This is where I want to live,_  
_It's where all the love you give exists..._

Trixie lifted herself up to meet Bri’s face, their lips almost connecting, sending Katya to the edge of her seat. Brianna’s hand was buried in Trixie’s hair, tugging on it right before they reached the point of no return, her other hand trailing on Trixie’s heaving chest.

Katya could see the rise and fall of Trixie’s breasts, her entire life depending on whether or not the corset will burst open at some point during the number.

 _...Your mouth waters,_  
_Stretched out on my bed,_  
_Your fingers are trembling,_  
_And your heart is heavy and red,_  
_And your head is bent back,_  
_And your back is arched,_  
_My hand is under there,_  
_Holding you up..._

It seemed both girls had fully lost their inhibitions to one another at that point, and Katya wasn’t far behind them. Trixie was now fully propped on Brianna’s thighs, moaning the lyrics as Brianna’s tongue licked a long, hot stripe down her neck, her hands moving across Trixie’s juicy thighs and down her gorgeous legs.

Now, listen; at this point, Katya wouldn’t be too broken up about one small kiss, that’s for sure.  
...especially one that could potentially lead to Katya getting the threesome of her goddamn dreams. Her goddamn dirty, guilty, wet dreams, that she would never in a million years disclose to anyone, but were now fast becoming reality on the very stage she called home.

 _I'll hold you up,_  
_And drive you all night,_  
_I'll hold you up,_  
_And drive you baby 'till you feel the daylight,_  
_I'll hold you up,_  
_And drive you all night,_  
_I'll hold you up,_  
_And drive you 'till you feel the daylight,_  
_That's right,_  
_That's right,”_

The song was coming to an end, and Katya had come undone.

The show was ending, and Katya could cry with frustration. Katya could cry from the fact that this was almost over and that it would probably never happen again. As much as she wanted, there was no way in hell Trixie would go for her and Brianna. So she was gonna relish in every detail, she watched every nuance, every subtle movement between both girls, each breath, lip-bite, tease, giggle, and touch accounted for.

The entire scene would probably replay in her mind, over and over, until she died of malnutrition.

The song was slowly fading, Katya could hear the guitar, the bass pricking soothingly at her ear. Trixie and Brianna were face to face, pressed in each other’s laps, inches from one another, both breathing heavily. Katya could swear, in that moment, there was not a single part of her body that wasn’t wet. She was so far off shore, she couldn’t even remember dry land.

As the final notes played, Trixie’s expression turned into a wild smile, her eyes wide, her pupils blown, her hair a tousled mess. She looked gorgeous, like she’s been thoroughly fucked. The entire audience was on their feet, and Katya knew her panties were destroyed beyond repair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also!!! Oro made an incredible playlist of songs we've mentioned in the fic!!! So you should give 'er a listen! [HITM Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLB5WWUfeOKPA0IGgDQ5ACnH3whzLoW5zT)


	17. Everything is Gay & Trixie is on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She could feel everything in her chest, slowly building, slowly clutching her heart and squeezing. She didn’t even have the forethought to remind herself to fucking breathe. Instead, she backed out of the room, unsure of where the motivation to move her feet came from. 
> 
> When she was out of the door, it was like a dam broke. Tears flooded her brown eyes. Sobs shook her shoulders and she collapsed against the wall, her knees at her chest. 
> 
> After all these years, after all this time, why couldn’t she just… let go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for all your love and support. Our readers have been incredible and we love you so much.  
> Thank you, specifically, to Rilli, whose overly Jewish love has kept us going, and thank you to Miz Cracker, who wore the t-shirt Oro gave her less than 24 hours (!!!) after receiving it, that was an actual mitzvah.
> 
> That's it, guys, don't forget to come and leave your two cents on Tumblr!!!  
> Me:[@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Oro: [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)

####  _2004_

“Fuck, fuck--” Trixie shivered as she hobbled her way across Pearl’s back porch. The music from inside was blaring, pounding. Despite the closed sliding-glass door, Trixie could feel it under her feet on the deck, beneath her bare toes. “It’s too fucking cold--”

“Doesn’t Pearl keep a couple of blankets out here?” Shea asked, plopping herself down on the bench-swing, her own arms wound tightly around herself. 

“Yeah, underneath here--” Trixie bent swiftly downwards to pull a trunk from beneath the opposite bench, inside she removed a heavy, fleece blanket that she draped around Shea’s shoulders. “I think this is her fuck blanket--” 

“Ew, oh my God, get it _off_!” 

Trixie laughed loudly. “No, I’m kidding! She hides that one under her bed upstairs. This one is her parents’--” 

“ _Trixie_! I’m gonna--!” Shea made a move to stand up, but Trixie, in all her fifteen-year-old strength, shoved her friend back onto the moving seat. 

“Relax-- you know I’m kidding!” Trixie shook her head and climbed in beside her friend, her bare legs tucked properly beneath her butt. 

“I can’t trust you,” Shea whispered haughtily, taking a sip of the wine bottle Trixie thought she pulled from nowhere. 

“Oh, piss off, Shea,” Trixie snorted, swiping the bottle for a swig of her own. Her eyes fell momentarily on the dark Wisconsin horizon ahead of her. Pearl’s backyard was just one long expanse of grass and trees. Trees she remembers climbing, patches of grass she played guitar on all throughout middle school. She was only a few months into being a freshman and yet that all felt so long ago. 

She was drunk, not sloshed; not entirely, but enough for Trixie to feel hazy and happy. Enough for her to reminisce and enjoy the moment, rather than stress about what was to come. She could feel Shea’s skin on her arms, on her lap where the other girl had draped her legs. Trixie should chastise herself for wearing such a short dress on a night like this, but Shea felt… kind of nice. She placed her hand daintily on Shea’s thigh, her manicured nails scraping softly at her skin. 

“Why’d you wanna come out here anyway?” Trixie flitted her eyes to Shea’s pretty face. The dim porch light flicking over her warm skin, her pretty lips. Trixie smiled again. 

“It’s too hard to talk in there. And if I have to watch Pearl do one more goddamn body-shot--” 

Trixie cackled. “She truly is the life of the party.” 

“Honestly, how can someone be so stoned and out of it just--” Shea shook her head and smiled, teeth gleaming. “She’s so dumb and out of control and _we’re_ gonna have to clean her up--” 

“ _You_? I’m sticking around to clean up this goddamn mess! And nurse her inevitable hangover in the morning.”

“I could stay over, too!” Shea defended with half a laugh. 

“Yeah, but you _won’t_.”

“You’re such a baby, Beatrice!” 

“Ugh, God, don’t _even_ \--” 

Abruptly and seemingly out of nowhere, Shea’s arm came around Trixie’s broad shoulders. Shea tugged her into an awkward half-embrace that Trixie was in no position to reciprocate. They both laughed briefly and Trixie resorted to taking another sip from the wine bottle they kept tucked between them. For a while, they sat like that. Silent, peaceful, wine passed between them until over half of it was gone. Trixie was starting to feel _something_.  
They’d been friends, nearly best friends, for about two years now. Shea was a few months older than Trixie and they’d bonded over music, over the theatre, and their parents’ affinity for early Sunday morning mass. Shea’s parents were significantly less strict than Trixie’s, but trading sympathies was well-embedded into their relationship. There was just… something unspoken between them. Some underlying connection Trixie had yet to understand.  
Shea sighed into the calm silence. Trixie could see her eyes flitting across the yard. 

“Trixie!” Shea squeezed Trixie’s shoulder. “Did you see that?” 

“Hm? “ Trixie looked up from her stupor. 

“The fireflies,” Shea clarified, leaning in and using the hand on Trixie’s shoulder to point in a rather general direction. Still, Trixie followed her gaze and sure enough, a small gaggle of lightning bugs glowed amongst the grass. They lit out of time with one another, their little groups getting thicker and brighter as they inched towards the darkest trees. Trixie’s face broke out into another bright smile and when she turned her head to speak to Shea, she found the other girl’s face mere inches from her own. Smiling, too. Trixie’s face shifted to something akin to shock, but it was that soft sort of shock. One that doesn’t disturb the peace, one that… you kind of expect.  
Shea’s warm hand moved from Trixie’s shoulder to the back of her neck, playing with the thick curls at the back of Trixie’s neck. It wasn’t the first time Shea’s done this, but this time, there was something contemplative about her dark gaze. Something Trixie could spend whole afternoons looking at, thinking about, trying to decipher its nuances and hidden meanings. Trixie could feel Shea’s breath on her lips, warm and sweet with a tinge of wine. She felt hooded, dazed, happy. She reveled in the safety of Shea’s arms, the other girl’s toned muscles contrasting beautifully with her own softness. She felt a pull deep within her she had no desire of stopping. 

Just then, the back door swung open. Violent, loud. Trixie felt the slam vibrating throughout her chest. 

“Oh-- oh my _God_!” 

The feeling of safety had evaporated completely, as cruel laughter erupted from a group of girls all clumped in the doorway. The loudest of them all was Betty, a girl Trixie had always found unpleasantness with. She was the type to come for anyone, the type to insert her two cents when no one wanted her to. She was a bully; cruel, unnecessary, but even worse, the bitch lived for gossip. Loved to spread it from here to the Illinois state line. And Shea and Trixie just gave her a mouthful. Naturally, she was the first to voice her disgust; a sound that will remain etched into Trixie’s mind for years to come. 

She noticed Shea shifting on the little bench, pulling the blanket around her and Trixie a little tighter. Trixie didn’t move. She felt herself freeze, and it had nothing to do with the cold. In fact, it was suddenly almost suffocatingly hot under the blanket. Trixie’s heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Little miss Trixie.” Betty began, her eyes moving between both girls, her expression all-knowing. “We always knew Shea was a big, fat, fucking dyke, we just didn’t know she’d rub off on _you_ \--”

That was it. That was all it took. The blood rushed to Trixie’s head, her vision clouded by white spots.  
_Fucking dyke_.

The words had come out of Betty’s beautifully drawn lips, but all Trixie could see was morning scruff; she could practically smell the drunken breath of an overly familiar man standing too close to her, its warmth hitting her face, her personal space claimed by an unwanted presence. She shuddered with disgust, her fight-or-flight instincts kicking into full gear. But then, why was she doing neither?

She could feel sweat trickling down her back.

Behind Betty, her friends began to laugh. Loud, cackling, mumbling words of malice amongst each other. ‘Dyke’ paired with Trixie’s own name was tossed about them. She already knew home wasn’t safe; this was a new feeling. Something awful was blooming in Trixie’s chest for the very first time. 

“That’s not fucking funny!” Shea scoffed.

“We’re not--” Trixie commented as she stood from their seat together. “Are you _serious_?” 

“I mean, one dyke at our school, but now we have two?” Someone else spoke. “God, how do they even _breed_?” The girls erupted with laughter as one of them made a lewd gesture.

“Now all we need is a faggot, a tranny, and our collection is complete--”

“Someone call the Priest!” Another voice added. Trixie didn’t dare look at their faces. 

Trixie was starting to feel sick, it was all too much. Her head felt like it wasn’t getting enough oxygen and she could pass out from it at any moment. 

“Piss off!” Trixie hurled a decorative pillow at the girls. “This isn’t funny! I’m not--” 

“You're not a dyke? It looked like your tongue was about to go down Shea’s--”

“Go _inside_ , you fucking bitch!” Trixie had never heard Shea’s voice so cutthroat. So clear, so demanding.

“Oh, Shea, did we hurt your feelings?” Betty teased. “What about you, Trixie? Gonna cry?” 

Wasn’t she already?

“If you don’t get the _fuck_ out of here, I’m gonna tell your little boyfriend who you’ve been sucking off during free period,” Shea hissed sharply. Betty sneered, her lip curled, but nevertheless, her crew disappeared into the house. Shea’s sharpness dissolve into softness. “God, I’m sorry, Trixie I shouldn’t--” 

Trixie sucked in a long, deep breath. It was constricting, fucking _painful_. 

“Don’t listen to Betty, she just-- she likes to shit on other people’s happiness, Trixie. We don’t have to even-- I mean, you and I--”

“I’m not gay, Shea--” Trixie throat dried, but she made her words crystal clear. “I just--”

“Yeah, but I am,” Shea said into the quiet. “I just-- you and I are--” 

“Look, that’s _great_ for you, but I can’t have everyone thinking I’m--”

Shea’s face shifted. “A dyke?” 

Trixie cringed. 

She felt her chest tighten. “I didn’t mean it like-- no, I’m just-- I’m not gay! Shea, do you know what my step-dad would do if he even _thought_ \--?” 

“You were gonna kiss me,” Shea said shortly. “You were gonna kiss me back--” 

“No, no, girl, I’m just-- we had a _lot_ of that cheap-ass wine, you know?” The tears finally began pricking Trixie’s eyes, her lip worried between her teeth.

“No, Trixie, that’s not what happened--”

“I’m gonna go home,” Trixie cut her off. “I need to go home, I’m not arguing with you.” 

“Wait, Trixie--” Shea reached out to pull Trixie back, a gentle touch on her arm, but Trixie ripped from her fingers like they burned, like Shea had poisoned her. The gesture hurt both of them. But Trixie didn’t _need_ this right now. She ran through the back door, into the main living area where most of the party-goers, most of her peers were sat. All eyes looked up to Trixie. Deep grins, knowing gazes, harsh words exchanged amongst the crowd. Trixie suddenly knew. She had half a mind to snap at them. She couldn’t breathe anymore, couldn’t even retaliate. Betty had-- had she told everyone? _Already?_ Trixie was going to choke.  
It was a small town, gossip spread like fucking _wildfire_ , and so many thoughts were spinning in Trixie’s head.  
How soon would her parents find out? Her grandparents? How bad would the rumor be distorted by then? She couldn’t even _imagine_ her parents’ reactions, her punishments. God knows they wouldn’t believe in her innocence. 

“Never pegged you for a pussy-licker, Mattel-- but I guess it makes sense?” One of the upperclassmen, a boy she knew from the football team spoke over the commotion. It sent the room into fits of vile laughter. 

“Yeah,” Another joined in. “A big ol’ dyke, huh? What’re mommy and daddy gonna say-- and with _Shea_.”

_Dyke, dyke, dyke._

Trixie _knew_ that this would be her moniker for the next four years. 

There were so many harassers, Trixie couldn’t find the thought, the clarity to respond. She was out of options, at least, for now, for four years. Her feet, by some grace of God, suddenly worked in the middle of the commotion. Trixie dodged her way into the bathroom, shut and slammed the door behind her. It was all she could do to not hurl into the toilet. No, baby Trixie sat herself on the rug, leaned up against the tub, and held her knees to her chest. The tears fell freely down her cheeks, mascara pooling beneath her eyes, dropping onto her legs. 

Trixie didn’t lock the door. She was an idiot not to, but the way it eased open told Trixie she didn’t need to fight. 

“Trixie?” A soft voice, one she knew from years and years before was peeking through the barrier. 

Bob. Bob Caldwell. 

Her brother’s best friend since… well, since forever. Smiling, goofy, class-clown Bob. One of the more popular boys at her school because, hey, not a damn soul could hold-back from loving him, not even Trixie. He and Dan were seniors now, so naturally, he rarely hung around Trixie and her freshman friends.  
Her immediate assumption was that he’d probably usher her out for a quick piss. Trixie made her move to stand up and, but instead, Bob held his hand out to stop her.

She flinched at the movement.

“Trixie, hey,” he pulled back his hand, taking a careful step towards her, “I came here for you, not the decorative soaps,” his voice was gentle, soothing. 

Trixie almost smiled through her tears. “The decorative probably look a lot better than me, right now,”

“Nah, never.” Bob waved his hand dismissively and gave Trixie the warmest smile he could muster. “They’ll get over it, you know that. I give it a week. Then everyone will find out Betty’s been sleeping with your brother and she’ll be the talk of the town--” 

“ _What_?” Trixie sat up incredulously. “No-- Dan?!” 

Bob just nodded, a shit-eating grin on his face. He slid his arm around Trixie’s shoulders, tugged her into his side comfortingly. Trixie didn’t flinch, instead, she fell into his soothing touches. 

“I’ve been going to this school for four years, babe. Trust me, it’s gonna be fine,” Bob kissed the top of Trixie’s head. “You trust my judgment, right?” His fingers wrapped around one of her messy blonde locks, tucking it back behind her ear.

Trixie wiped the mascara from her eyes, her cheeks. “I’ve seen most of the girls you sleep with. No one should trust your judgment.” 

Bob cackled, shaking his head at Trixie’s words. “And that’s why you’re my favorite Mattel-- don’t tell Danny I said that, okay?”

“Yeah,” Trixie shook her head. “Yeah, I promise.” 

“Now,” Bob shifted as if he was about to stand. “You want me to drive you home?”

Trixie huffed, relieved. “Please. I gotta get my purse and my coat--” 

“I’ll get it. I don’t want you subjected to those fucking trolls--” He stood up and held both hands out to Trixie. “Where are they?”

Trixie used his hands to pull herself to a stand. He had a few good inches on her, despite Trixie being one of the taller girls in her class. 

“Pearl’s room, upstairs-- just go in. She’s assuming people are fucking in there anyway,” Trixie laughed a little, but Bob just groaned irritably. 

“Great, so I get to see someone’s naked fucking ass--”

“Because I’m your favorite Mattel,” Trixie reminded him, squeezing his hands. 

“Just get out to my car, you little brat,” Bob rolled his eyes. “I’ll be out in a minute,” 

“Thanks, Bobby--” Trixie opened the bathroom door. 

“Don’t you fucking--” Bob shoved Trixie playfully in the middle of her back. “I could always leave you here,” 

“You won’t, though,” Trixie assured, rounding the corner into the kitchen. Thankfully, no one had breached that room during the evening. Trixie snuck out the door without so much of a comment and Bob disappeared through the living room. His truck was parked crookedly in the yard and Trixie waited by the door for him to return. 

Maybe Bob could be right? Maybe the rumors wouldn’t spread to her parents, to the school. Maybe the whole of her peers would be too busy with their own hangovers to even think of Trixie and Shea. Maybe she could be okay? 

But there was this ominous feeling, one that’s always been lurking in the back of her mind, now gripping her entire heart like a fist. 

_Dyke._

Her smile faltered, and, as she watched Bob hurrying towards the car, her ridiculous, pink coat, and purse in his hand, she knew.

She would never be okay.

✘✘✘

####  _2008_

Oh, she was better than okay. Trixie felt so _fucking_ good. She was practically twirling as she strutted into the wing. Her heart was thumping in her chest and her smile was never-ending. It’d been so long since she’d felt this _good_ , this _high_ after a performance.  
Brianna had given her a soft kiss on the cheek at the end of the number and Trixie began to think that maybe, just maybe, liking this girl wouldn’t be so hard. She could hear Alaska droning onstage. Jokes about Bianca, about Trixie and Brianna. It was all she could do not to burst into her loud, mirthful laugh. Even if they _did_ make fun of her, Trixie fucking doubted anything could pull her from her mood.  
She shrugged her robe back over her shoulders, longing for Katya to come backstage and tell her how incredible she was. 

_Damnit_ , she was incredible, wasn’t she? 

But, logically, she knew both Katya and Adore were occupied by other things. And that was okay! Trixie was gonna take off her makeup, sit in the dressing room for a while, maybe play guitar, maybe get Chi Chi to mix her a drink. Her night wasn’t going to end so early. Trixie was gonna spend tonight celebrating her newfound confidence.  
She rounded into the dressing room, empty lest for Violet and Ginger who were going through their nightly routines. 

“Hey, how’d your other number go?” Ginger asked first, pulling his long mop of hair into a low ponytail. “Crowd sounded pleased.” 

“It was incredible,” Trixie assured, taking out her earrings and the bow she’d secured in her hair. “I pulled Brianna onstage--” She started to take off her costume, thankful for the yoga pants and shirt she kept with her things. Getting out of that corset was like freeing her goddamn soul. 

Ginger whistled. “I didn’t know that number was a plot to kill Katya,” Ginger said conversationally. “I would’ve helped in that case.” 

Trixie giggled good-naturedly. “Well, I wanted Brianna to feel like she was part of the family!” Trixie licked her still-pink lips. “I think it worked.”

 

“Katya run off with Brianna, then?” Violet quipped. Perhaps Trixie was overthinking, but she thought Violet sounded a tad bitter. Trixie shrugged and removed her lashes. 

“Yeah, I think so,” 

“Well, as long as I don’t have to hear ‘em fuckin’--” Ginger shook his head. “What do you think is up with Bianca and Adore, _now_? D’you see them run...” 

Ginger’s voice faded into the throng as the rest of the cast faded in. Aja and Chi Chi first, both giving Trixie encouraging high-fives and pleasing words. And then Kim, who squeezed Trixie’s shoulder and mumbled her pride. 

And, then Alaska. 

Alaska strolled in, chest puffed practically out of the little crop-top he was wearing. Trixie met his gaze with a big smile, one he returned with bright, bright eyes. 

“Congratulations, Trixie!” he started. “On being a big, fat, fucking _dyke_!” 

_Oh._

Trixie’s smile fell, completely faltered. 

_Little miss Trixie--_

She suddenly felt so sick. 

_\--We always knew Shea was a big, fat, fucking dyke, we just didn’t know she’d rub off on you._

She was suddenly fifteen again, Shea in her lap, her heart in her throat. She thought her reflection cracked in the mirror. She thought she could die, right then and there. 

The room, of course, burst into laughter. But it was brief, in fact, after Alaska pat Trixie on the back, the group continued with their routines, talking amongst themselves. She heard her name tossed around. The words _dyke, lesbian, porn,_ and _Brianna_ paired with it somehow. 

She could feel everything in her chest, slowly building, slowly clutching her heart and squeezing. She didn’t even have the forethought to remind herself to fucking breathe. Instead, she backed out of the room, unsure of where the motivation to move her feet came from. 

When she was out of the door, it was like a dam broke. Tears flooded her brown eyes. Sobs shook her shoulders and she collapsed against the wall, her knees at her chest. 

After all these years, after all this time, why couldn’t she just… let go?

There was no Bob there to comfort her, no one to whisper soft words, no one who could understand how she felt. Everything came back. Like vomit, like bile. 

She remembers the kids taunting her every day. _That word_ used more than _Trixie_ ever was. Her stepdad's unbridled, fucking rage. The day he found out, the day he called her down after dinner and kept two inches from her face. The way her mother sat and watched with a look of utter fucking disappointment. 

Disgusting.  
Sinner.  
Devil. 

His beer-laden breath infiltrating her nostrils. Trixie thought she could smell it now. Her lips quivered. She felt sick, she felt like she was _fifteen_ again. 

Somewhere above her, a door slammed, heels clacked rapidly across the vinyl floor, until two hands were clenching her wrists. 

“Trixie-- Trixie, hey, are you okay?” 

When she looked up, Trixie saw Brianna. Her face was contorted by concern and she was holding Trixie like she was the only thing grounding her. She looked disheveled. Just fucked out and disheveled, no doubt, but Trixie hadn’t the ability to focus on that. 

Trixie’s voice was lost for a moment. Honestly, what could she tell _Brianna_ , of all people? She felt her throat close, dry up, her lips sealed. 

“Is it me? Did I do something? Honey, c'mon, talk to me,” In her pretty leather dress, Brianna kneeled on the dirty floor. Brianna’s hands moved from Trixie’s wrists to her face, where she used her thumbs to wipe away the torrent of Trixie’s tears. 

It was such a simple gesture. So sweet, so kind, and so… so _human_. 

Trixie wrapped her arms around Brianna, cried heavily and sickly into her shoulder. She was shaking them both, she was sure. But nevertheless, Brianna mumbled soothing, kind words, her fingers tangling in Trixie’s curls. 

“Shh, shh, it’s gonna be okay. Trixie, you’re gonna be okay. Take a deep breath--” 

Every time a sob wracked Trixie’s body, Brianna held her tighter, kissed her head. 

It was like she understood without ever really knowing. 

When at last they separated, Trixie looked at Brianna’s doe eyes; bright, brown, worried. Brianna wiped away the last of Trixie’s tears, giving her a heart-warming smile. Trixie felt nervous. She was a mess, and she didn’t want to offend Brianna, who was had been so kind to her. The more she was asked about it, the less she could explain her utter disgust with herself, with the possibility of being...

“You don’t have to tell me what that was about,” Brianna said at last. “But Katya and I are going out tomorrow and you’re coming with us,” she tucked a bit of her own hair behind her ear. “Clear your head, take a deep breath. You need it.” 

Trixie didn’t even argue. She blinked her burning eyes and forced herself to stand. 

“I’m sorry,” Trixie spoke, at last, her voice sounding sick and hoarse. Brianna stood as well, but she kept a hand placed comfortingly on Trixie’s back. 

“Don’t be,” Brianna dismissed her immediately. “I just-- I came out to thank you for tonight.” 

Trixie quirked a tired brow, 

“I was starting to think you… you didn't like me,” Brianna laughed nervously. “But, I really had fun tonight. I really felt at home with you onstage,” she smiled.

“Oh,” Trixie licked her dry lips, unsure of a response. “Yeah, I’m glad--” 

Well, she _was_ glad. 

“-- It seemed like Katya had fun, too.” 

Brianna’s face ignited in a soft pink blush and Trixie realized the implications of her comment. “She, uh, she definitely did.” 

“So,” Trixie began. “Tomorrow--” 

“Kat and I will pick you up at ten, okay? Wear something kind of comfortable.” 

Trixie mulled over her words. Okay. Okay, she could do this. “Yeah, I’ll see you then?” 

Brianna gave Trixie one last, long hug. Her delicate arms practically crushing Trixie with surprising strength. “Bye, Trixie, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then, she was gone. And Trixie was alone again. 

✘✘✘

Trixie woke up to a thud.

It took her a moment to understand what was going on. She’d fallen asleep in her clothes, she realized with disgust. She may have been wearing loose garments, but she felt constricted, her entire body contorted uncomfortably, her heart so heavy she couldn’t breathe. Her pillow had been stained with tears and mascara, and she imagined her face didn’t look much better. She let out a groan, her voice hoarse and broken from the previous night.

“Sorry, Trixie,” Adore’s voice was close to her but seemed to come from a great distance. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered loudly, as if not to wake Trixie up. But Trixie was awake, and God, she wished so much she hadn’t been. The sun was starting to come up, and Trixie could hear the damn taunting sound of birds chirping outside her window, an appropriate soundtrack to a long list of regrets hitting her like a ton of bricks.

_Brianna Cracker. Lips. Tongue. Teeth. Those damn hips. A big, fat lesbian rubbing off on you._

Katya’s _expression_.

_I’ll see you tomorrow._

_Oh, Jesus. Gross._

It was only a matter of minutes, but Trixie’s heart was in her damn throat. She’d barely noticed Adore’s excited speech, the words flying out of the blue-haired girl’s lips and right over Trixie’s head. “...and then we kissed, and God, the way she _looked at me_ , Trixie --”

_Fuck, wait, what?_

“What did you just say?” Trixie croaked.

Finally, finally Adore’s babble stopped, and she rolled over to Trixie and eyed her with concern, probably for the first time since she walked in the door. Her eyes were so green at that moment, it almost could’ve soothed the panic bubbling inside of Trixie. She held Adore’s gaze, silently willing her not to say a damn word. Trixie couldn’t afford that. One wrong move and she’d fall apart again.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Adore’s finger reached to gently trace the ugly tracks of dried mascara on Trixie’s cheek, and there was nothing Trixie could do but fall apart again. “Oh shit,” Adore said, pulling Trixie into a hug. 

It was nothing like Brianna’s hug; Adore and Trixie had a routine, a cadence, a rhythm to their dance. Usually, it was the other way around, but Trixie couldn’t help but lean into Adore’s arms as she stroked her hair. She was disgusting, inside and out, but Adore didn’t seem to care. She put her lips to Trixie’s forehead, her temple, her stained cheek, her lips. It was friendly, chaste, absent of the heat that used to course throughout Trixie’s entire body, a fire that burned her inhibitions entirely. In this hour of early dawn, Trixie felt she had too much to lose; an avalanche of stale profanities threatening to suffocate her from within, rebuilding a wall she’s tried so hard to tear down, tried so hard to ignore. But even through it all, her body remembered Adore’s body, her deafening, fast heartbeats finally syncing with Adore’s. Trixie breathed her in, giving into touches and kisses that couldn’t mask the unfamiliar taste of whiskey on Adore’s lips, its bitterness marking the end of something between them.

As the waves subsided, tucked tightly in Adore’s embrace, Trixie allowed herself to try again. She opened her mouth with the intent of just saying the simplest of things, but she was struck silent. 

What could she possibly say, right now? 

_I’m fucking disgusted by the idea of ever being like you, Adore. And Bianca. And Katya. And Violet. And Brianna. And all our fucking friends._

And the classic: 

_But, I’m not homophobic, you know?_

__Also:_ _

___I still love you, I just regret everything we ever did together!_ _ _

__Jesus fucking Christ._ _

__A few more tears slipped silently down Trixie’s cheeks, but it was a vast improvement from her torrents and torrents of sobs. Trixie shook her head, barely able to look Adore in the eyes._ _

__“Tell me what you need, Trixie,” she uttered slowly. Her fingers were tangled in the hem of Trixie’s shirt as if she was going to relieve her of the constricting fabric. In reality, Trixie thought, she was probably just trying to keep her grounded. Trixie was still unable to speak, to utter her needs, her wishes. Adore was usually alright about reading her; however, Trixie doubted she would be able to guess her inner turmoil. At her silence, Adore spoke again. “You should change. And wash your face.” her tone was a little more commanding than Trixie was ever used to hearing. At her words, Adore rose from the mattress and gathered Trixie’s pajamas and makeup wipes from the bathroom. It was all rather domesticated._ _

__Trixie still wanted to throw up._ _

__When Adore joined Trixie again, she already had a wipe removed from its packaging. She sat down and held Trixie’s chin, ready to clean the grime away._ _

__“Do you wanna hear about Bianca and me?” Adore asked, realizing Trixie’s silence was likely a permanent one._ _

__Just by her demeanor, Trixie knew Adore could barely contain herself. She was vibrating with it, a smile playing on her lips._ _

__“Yeah,” Trixie croaked again, rather pleased with an opportunity for distraction._ _

__Adore nearly squealed, her fingers carefully wiping away the makeup around Trixie’s crusty eyes. “I was so, so, so scared, Trix. I mean, I’d done some fucked up shit in the past, but this… it just got so _intense_ out there, between us. I was expecting _something_ , but it was like _looking right the fuck into her_. Bitch, I was not _ready_ \--!” Adore had just started and her words were pouring out of her. _ _

__Trixie listened with careful intent, her brown eyes following Adore’s focused green ones. She had to listen this time. She had to give Adore the attention she deserved. As Adore went on, Trixie could feel a tightness that had once been there begin to unravel. Trixie began the night with a full heart, and ever since she got off stage, it’s been growing steadily emptier. She’d known since the beginning she’d have to say goodbye to Adore, eventually, but she didn’t know it would be quite like this. Another loss, another thing taken away from her, another tear in her safety net; and Trixie was holding on for dear life. She swallowed hard and tried to be happy for Adore. _This is what she wanted,_ she reminded herself. This is what they’d both wanted._ _

__But she was just so goddamn exhausted. By herself, by her emotions, by everything around her. The last thing she needed was for Adore to back out one of the solid, most founded relationships she’s yet to have for Trixie’s sake; that would be ridiculous. She couldn’t ignore the pull she’d felt towards Adore, and the girl’s excitement, even in Trixie’s current state, was almost contagious._ _

__“... so, we get backstage, and I’m thinking ‘this is it, like _fuck_ ’ and she _grabs_ me. Bea is kinda strong when we’d fuck she used to be able to like--” Adore began flailing her hands, trying to demonstrate their old positions. “Hold me in this super - like - you know?” _ _

__Trixie cringed. As happy as she wished she could be for Adore, she’d really rather not know this about Bianca._ _

__“Anyway,” Adore began wiping down Trixie’s neck. “So she pulls me into the hallway, and I’m fully about to cry, tears in my eyes, and I see her and _she’s_ crying! And I know she’s gonna yell at me again! But!” Adore tossed some of her blue hair. “I’m just trying to make this bitch happy, like, what more could she want, you know? She’s such a grandpa.” _ _

__Almost at once, Trixie cracked half a smile. Adore was such an idiot, she couldn’t help it. The girl’s smile lit up her entire face, like a child reunited with their favorite toy. Trixie’s tired eyes held Adore’s a moment too long before she looked away. It wasn’t like that anymore. _They_ weren’t going to be like that anymore. _ _

__Trixie was so tired of feeling._ _

__Adore cleared her throat. “Anyway, it feels like for-fucking-ever before she opens that big mouth of hers and you know what?”_ _

__“What?” Trixie licked her lips, picking her nightgown from Adore’s lap._ _

__“She says _nothing_. She just looks at me, but Trixie,” Adore took a moment to remember Bianca’s face, to smile, to close her eyes. “The _way_ she looked at me. It was like none of this bad shit ever happened, it was like falling in _love_ all over again with her, Trixie. Fuck,” she paused, “I just love her so, so much,” Adore shook her head. “She just grabbed me and held me so, so tight,” she said softly, wistfully. “As if I was gonna run away from her. She had her eyes wide open and she just _looked_ into mine for the longest time, like… like, _instead_ of talking, you know?”_ _

__Trixie didn’t know, but it didn’t matter to Adore._ _

__"Like pavalavla response, or whatever?”_ _

__“Pavlovian response?” Trixie tried._ _

__“That thing!” Adore slapped Trixie’s arm. “She kissed me back and we just started full-on making out and-- and then we were in the office and I was straddling her and touching her face--” Adore sucked in a deep breath, caught up in thought for a moment before her eyes widened at Trixie’s expression. “We didn’t fuck, Trixie. I didn’t wanna push it, I didn’t wanna _push her._ ” _ _

__Trixie, unkeen on hearing whether or not they did, well, _anything_ began piling into her nightie. A welcome distraction from Adore’s words. _ _

___Just fucking be happy for her!_ _ _

__“And we laughed. She cracked a few jokes and it felt like she was herself, for like… the first time since I came back! It was like… it was like before, y’know?”_ _

__“So, you’re back together then?” Trixie asked automatically, her throat was starting to burn._ _

__“Uh, well,” Some of the wind seemed to be taken from Adore’s sails. “We didn’t talk about it.”_ _

__“What?” Trixie crossed her legs beneath her._ _

__“We were kissing and we talked a little, but not about that, and then-- she just stopped, said she’d better take me home,” Adore shrugged. “Listen, it means we’re good. Bianca and I are--!” Adore puffed out her chest and collapsed into the blankets. “You didn’t see the way she looked at me,” she said finally. Her eyes were closed, she shook her head as she spoke, her expression dreamy again. “And really, just getting to do all of that again…”_ _

__Adore’s words were punctuated by the rumbling of footsteps outside the door (tourists, probably), birds chirping still, and Trixie was sure they had landed somewhere around seven in the morning. Despite the cold air, the sun seemed bound and determined to peek through clouds and her curtains. It cast over Trixie’s pink bed, over both girls, wide awake and in various emotional states. She remained silent, even in Adore’s wake._ _

__But silence, with Adore, was never acceptable._ _

__“What about you?” she finally asked. “What was -”_ _

___My emotional breakdown? My inner destruction? My years and years of emotional abuse bubbling to the surface? Take your pick, baby._ _ _

__“- All the crying about?”_ _

___So, so exhausted._ _ _

__She wondered, briefly, if another breakdown would be on the horizon. If she had to open her mouth and say it out-loud, explain what brought this on. Her patience with her own emotional state was wearing thin, her own fragility being something she wasn’t too keen on holding onto. She couldn’t handle more emotions right now, especially those with Adore._ _

__“Listen,” she began. “I don’t really feel up to talking about it, Adore--” she felt like a glass doll, ready to be dropped and shattered._ _

__It wasn’t if she hadn’t a few cracks already._ _

__“No one did anything to you, right?” Adore pressed. “I’m from Azusa, baby, I’ll stab a bitch if I have to.” Trixie wanted to smile at the warm gesture. It really was sweet, the amount Adore could care about… just anyone. “Katya’s not mad at you is she?”_ _

__Trixie sighed and without enough thought, she said: “No, of course not,” she shook her head. “It’s no one here.”_ _

__Judging by the look on Adore’s pretty face, that was the wrong choice of words._ _

__“Trixie, what’s that--”_ _

__“Adore,” Trixie sighed, exhaustion to frustration. “I can’t… I can’t get into it, right now.”_ _

__“I’m kinda worried, girl--” Adore’s hand came up to stroke Trixie’s cheek, but Trixie leaned back instinctively. She regretted it almost immediately._ _

__“Baby, please don’t be,” Trixie said, trying to regain a shred of composure. She cuddled up to Adore, grateful for the way the other girl’s arms instinctively wrapped around her. “I’m just so, so…” her body sank into the mattress, into the comforting promise of absolutely nothing happening between them that morning, as Adore stroked her hair with fingers that belonged on another woman’s skin, and she fell into a dreamless sleep._ _

__✘✘✘_ _

__Honestly, the worst place Trixie could find herself on this fine Sunday afternoon would be at an LGBTQ Film Festival somewhere just outside the Boston city limits._ _

__And guess where the fuck God dropped her pretty, blonde ass?_ _

__Amongst crowds and crowds of gays, Trixie sat wedged between Brianna and Katya at the Somerville Theatre. The couple was, naturally, arguing over the itinerary. Playfully so, of course. Katya wanted to see something called _Gypsy 83_ , ‘a classic about goths, gays, and the power of Stevie Nicks!’. _ _

__Brianna shot that down with a swift _‘I actually want to enjoy myself’_ and suggested something far more intellectual. Like _The Hours, or the three-episode marathon of the mini-series, _Tipping the Velvet_. __ _

____“It’s Sarah Waters, Katya! You uneducated fucking lesbian!”_ _ _ _

___As for Trixie, well, she didn’t know nearly any of the titles she’d seen. The ones she did know, had already passed in the festivals previous days, so her fate lied in Katya’s and Brianna’s hands._ _ _

___How many excuses could she come up with for avoiding a lesbian sex scene today?_ _ _

___Quite a few, she realized._ _ _

___She was better than she was last night. Not entirely put together, not necessarily _okay_ , but Trixie found the motivation to function. That was the most important part, right? And Katya cracked jokes the whole drive, Brianna rambled about another gallery open, and Trixie sat watching the buildings pass in the windows. The urge to cry was an off and on thing, mostly off, if Katya kept talking, Trixie kept her mind off of it. It was kind of nice to hear Katya talk again. _ _ _

___“You’re being so picky-!” Katya lamented. “I don’t wanna watch something so _focused_!” _ _ _

___“You love Virginia Woolf!” Brianna argued._ _ _

___“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I wanna be up in her shit all the time!” Katya ran a hand through her hair. “ _Gypsy 83_ is --” _ _ _

___“Oh my God!” Trixie could’ve torn her pretty, little curls out. “Can we just-- can you two please pick something?”_ _ _

___“Well, what’ve you seen, Trixie?” Brianna asked calmly, angling the list so Trixie could peer at its contents. Titles Trixie wasn’t even sure that she’d even _heard_ of covered the sheet. A few were international, a few were series, and none of them really seemed to pique Trixie’s interest. _ _ _

___“None, I don’t think I know any of these,” she admitted, a hand sheepishly running through her hair._ _ _

___“Not even _Hedwig and the Angry Inch_? Girl.” Katya asked, her hand resting on the small of Trixie’s back. _ _ _

___Trixie was little offended by the judgment in her tone._ _ _

___“Wait--” Brianna glanced over the paper. “No, _that’s_ what we’re going to see-- I refuse to let you live your life another minute without this experience!” Brianna’s voice was firm, assured. “Girl, you have not _lived_ until you’ve seen this movie.” _ _ _

___Katya winked in response._ _ _

___Trixie looked at Brianna and then Katya, entirely uncertain. But, hey, the last time she was told she _had_ to see a film, it led to a two-year-long _Friday the 13th_ obsession she had to hide from both her parents due to only being fourteen at the time. _ _ _

___She could trust them, right?_ _ _

___Neither of them would tell Trixie what the film was about. So, she was hanging on a branch here, with nothing but Katya and Brianna to catch her fall. Even when they were picking their seats for the viewing, both women vowed to keep their mouths shut. Katya was grinning erratically the whole time, her fingers practically vibrating into Brianna’s. She could see it._ _ _

___In other words, she didn’t have a lot to hope to hold onto._ _ _

___But, she trusted Katya (mostly), and she trusted Brianna. It was like, her actual _job_ , right? So the movie was _bound_ to be incredible. Even as the lights dimmed in the house, the applause began, the feeling of irrational anxiety and excitement in her stomach, Trixie felt ready. She was ready to watch this film, enjoy it, and then never think about it again. _ _ _

___Trixie learned _very_ quickly that, no, this was not a movie one just ‘forgets’. _ _ _

___To clarify, it was a musical. One of the most incredible musicals Trixie had seen and she had barely gotten past the first song. Sitting there, enthralled, Trixie realized how long it’s been since she just let herself enjoy a show. This was, by no means, a show you just sit back and watch; for Trixie, at that moment, it was absolutely everything._ _ _

___This wasn’t just a movie, it was pure theatre; innovative, something Trixie had never, ever seen before, and something her parents would skin her alive for even _thinking_ about. Something her neighbors and friends back home would find absolutely appalling._ _ _

___She was _home_ , and that home just happened to be a slip of a girlyboy from Communist East Berlin, the internationally-ignored song stylist barely standing before her, victim of a botched sex change operation. Katya’s eyes searched hers in the darkness as if she’d known all along that Trixie would find herself in the beautiful face of Hedwig Schmidt. How un-fucking-likely. Trixie smiled, her gaze moving back to the screen, her mind succumbing to the dreamlike, unreal, almost stream-of-consciousness cabaret enfolding before her._ _ _

___Katya never said _I told you so_ , but her hand, at some point, had slipped into Trixie’s. They remained like that for the rest of the film, Katya’s thumb stroking occasional circles against the back of Trixie’s hand._ _ _

___The film ended, but Trixie’s excitement had not. She could barely be contained by the thought of this… honest masterpiece._ _ _

___And she thought she loved _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_. When the lights came up and people filtered out of their seats, Brianna swung around Katya to lace her arm in Trixie’s. _ _ _

___“Soooooo…” Brianna drew her words out with a big grin. “What’d ya think?”_ _ _

___“In-fucking-credible!” Trixie laughed. “Oh my gosh, Brianna, I’m so glad you guys picked this--”_ _ _

___Katya, who had fallen behind in the narrow aisle, interjected. “Day’s not over yet!” she said brightly. “We still got a couple more films to squeeze in!”_ _ _

___“Yeah, definitely,” Brianna said absentmindedly, not taking her eyes off of Trixie. “Wasn’t the music insane?”_ _ _

___“Oh my _God_ , the lyrics! _Origin of Love_ had me--” Trixie let out a yelp of excitement. _ _ _

___“Yeah, me--” Katya began._ _ _

___“I know. It doesn't seem like it would be that good, but it is. The music, Hedwig’s symbolism, the whole ‘gender-of-one’, tragic, yet beautiful--” Brianna bit her lip. “I could honestly watch that movie over and over again find more things to love each time.”_ _ _

___“Me too. Thank you, both of you,” Trixie glanced back at Katya, who gave her a half-smile in return._ _ _

___“Now what?” Brianna asked once they reached the lobby again. “ _Tipping the Velvet_ doesn’t start for another twenty minutes?” _ _ _

___“And _Gypsy 83_ is gonna be on after that,” Katya insisted. _ _ _

___“We are _not_ going to see that,” Brianna laughed, rolling her eyes. _ _ _

___“Yeah, Kat. Just because _you_ wanna relive your golden years, doesn’t mean we’re down,” Trixie pursed her lips as Brianna broke out into bright giggles. Something in Katya’s face shifted, but she still laughed. Trixie added,“I say we watch Bri’s thing and then play it by ear--” _ _ _

___“Why _Tipping the Velvet_ , Trixie? You don’t even know what that _is_ ,” Katya was quick to respond. _ _ _

___Trixie shrugged nonchalantly. “She was right about Hedwig, wasn’t she?”_ _ _

___Katya opened her mouth to respond, shrugged, and then laughed. “Okay, okay, I guess I’ve been outvoted.”_ _ _

___“Mmhm,” Brianna stood up on her toes to kiss Katya’s on the lips, a soft, sweet peck. She seemed very pleased with herself._ _ _

___Katya returned the kiss, taking a little longer than Trixie would’ve liked. “I’m gonna smoke and maybe get snacks,” she said softly. “Want anything?”_ _ _

___“Here, take my wallet, just get like, popcorn or something,”_ _ _

___“No, no,” Katya waved her hand dismissively. “I got this one. Babe?”_ _ _

___“Something salty,” Brianna said cheerily. “Gotta stay on brand! Thanks, baby.”_ _ _

___With another nod, Katya disappeared amongst the crowd, and Brianna and Trixie hung back underneath the decorative pillars and arranged show-posters. With one long look, Brianna had shifted the mood completely._ _ _

___“So,” Brianna said, her tone a little bit more serious. “How are _you_?” _ _ _

___Oh. There goes her moment of bliss._ _ _

___“I’m okay,” Trixie said slowly. “Last night was… a lot.”_ _ _

___“It wasn’t me, was it?” Brianna asked carefully._ _ _

___Trixie shook her head. “No… I mean.”_ _ _

___Trixie considered her words. It wasn’t Brianna _directly_ , no. _ _ _

___“No, not… not exactly,” Trixie reaffirmed weakly. Brianna’s face fell. “You didn’t do anything,” Trixie quickly added._ _ _

___“Did someone else?”_ _ _

___Trixie saw two choices. Give some half-assed, barely-there answer. Something not incriminating. Or she could lay her cards out on the table to Brianna. Just _finally_ explain her issues in full detail. Like she did with Katya. _ _ _

___She chose the latter._ _ _

___“Has Katya talked about me at all - I mean -” Trixie fidgeted. She felt like she was standing on an unlevel playing ground, easy to slip, to stumble and fall. “I know that sounds conceited. But, I mean, I guess what I mean is… I have this issue with--”_ _ _

___“Being gay,” Brianna clarified, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Katya’s mentioned something - I asked, I guess - I noticed you were a little touchy.”_ _ _

____How very observant of you, Skipper._ _ _ _

___No, that was mean. _Bad Trixie.__ _ _

___“Yeah,” Trixie cleared her throat. “It kinda started with this - _slur_ \- my step-dad used back in high school. Just like- “ Trixie waved her hand aimlessly trying to will the words to her tongue. She was trying to describe this with the least amount of emotions possible. However, she could still feel her chest clenching at the thoughts, the memories. “And it wasn’t just him, it was, like, everyone I knew. All the kids at school.” _ _ _

___Brianna nodded thoughtfully._ _ _

___“Okay, so,” Trixie sighed forcefully as if trying to banish the emotions from her head. “Okay, uhm, so, anyway, someone used _that_ word last night and they were joking, and it was meant to be funny, but, it brought… _everything_ back. Just -” Trixie shook her head. “It pushed me over the edge and - and I just couldn’t pull myself together.” _ _ _

___At first, Brianna didn’t say anything. She stood, opposite Trixie in that busy theatre lobby. The crowds around them oblivious to what Trixie confessed, oblivious to the swirl of emotions and the bomb, Trixie felt, she just dropped._ _ _

___“That… I’m sorry that happened to you,” Brianna said finally. “Thank you for telling me, the trust means a lot to me,” she added. “Can I ask what it was?”_ _ _

___“What?”_ _ _

___“The slur. I don’t wanna accidentally use it.”_ _ _

___“Oh, it was -,” Trixie paused. Normally, she preferred not to say it. Normally, when things got like this, it sent a chill down her spine, burned a hole through her stomach. But something about saying it to Brianna made it carry just a _little_ less weight, the same it felt when she said it with Katya. “It was _dyke._ ” _ _ _

___Trixie, for a moment, thought Brianna seemed surprised. And that could be, of course, for a number of reasons. Katya used it, or _used_ to use it quite a bit. Maybe Brianna only thought the word to be a simple, playful term. Maybe she had her own history with it, Trixie didn’t know. _ _ _

___Trixie shifted in her place. She felt naked, vulnerable like she was entirely open to predators._ _ _

___“I know where you’re coming from,” she said finally, her eyes elsewhere. “My dad probably wishes I didn’t exist.”_ _ _

___“You-- he-- what?” Trixie would’ve never guessed, honestly. Brianna was so confident, so self-assured. She’d always seemed so genuinely _comfortable_ to Trixie, that she’d never once thought to consider whether or not that was actually true._ _ _

___“Uh, yeah,” Brianna finally looked back at Trixie. “I mean… he was raising a heterosexual, disciplined karate champion, and I turned out to be a lesbian columnist living her best life out in Boston, that…” she cleared her throat, “anyway, we aren’t very close, so I get it.”_ _ _

___“Brianna, I’m so sorry--”_ _ _

___“No, God, don’t be, Trixie. You get it. You understand and that, that in itself is _really_ nice.” _ _ _

____It was._ _ _ _

___“Yeah,” Trixie mumbled. “Someone understanding it’s-- it _is_ nice,” she said, receding into a strained, contemplative silence, her eyes boring into Brianna’s face._ _ _

___“What?” Brianna finally asked._ _ _

___“I don’t know, it’s stupid, just… I guess it never occurred to me that you’d be like me. I thought you were different, like, the type to make her parents proud. I’d be proud of you,” she lowered her gaze._ _ _

___“Hey, Trixie, listen,” Brianna started, “look at me. Look at everyone out here. What do you see?”_ _ _

___Trixie looked from Brianna to the rest of the crowd, people walking together alone or in groups, laughing or engrossed in a debate, and some just walking with stars in her eyes, as she had just moments ago. Maybe they watched Hedwig, too. She saw couples, men holding hands, women exchanging soft looks with one another, a bunch of fully-bearded people in beautiful floral dresses, rainbow-clad toddlers in strollers. She was used to some of this by now, having spent months at the cabaret, but somehow it’s never been this big, this out in the open, in broad daylight. Everyone was out there just living their lives in ways Trixie never even imagined for herself._ _ _

___She totally forgot to answer Brianna’s question._ _ _

___Brianna’s eyes darkened. “I see stories,” she said softly. “I see people who have all disappointed their families, the communities they’ve lived in, their church, their God.”_ _ _

___Trixie sucked in her breath._ _ _

___“I see people like us, Trixie,” she continued, “I… I don’t know where you stand, but I’m pretty damn sure that no one in Cheese County, Wisconsin, expected to meet anyone quite like you.”_ _ _

____That’s for damn sure._ _ _ _

___“But look at all these disappointments, Trix,” she smiled at the younger girl. “Look at these friends, these couples, _everyone_ at Jacques,” she chuckled. “They chose their own families. They make _themselves_ proud.” Trixie seemed somewhat weepy at that, and Brianna threw an arm around her shoulder. “Listen. You make _me_ proud, okay? If you ever need someone just to cry at around 3 AM, call me, text me, I’ll probably be writing an article that’s three weeks behind,” Brianna laughed and Trixie suddenly felt _so_ much better. _ _ _

___And at that moment, Trixie realized she and Brianna Cracker were more alike than she’d ever previously thought. Their connection went beyond a hair color and a wardrobe scheme. It went beyond an affinity for a certain Russian blonde with a dumb fashion sense and smoker’s breath.  
It was in their stories, their way of thinking, the way the world seemed to view them both from a perspective that was… no one’s business. _ _ _

___No one was Barbie, no one was Skipper. No one was anyone’s damn knock-off._ _ _

___They were Trixie and Brianna. They were two dolls that were cut from their _own_ cloth, their _own_ brand, meant to meet, support, and understand each other. _ _ _

___Trixie felt an assurance settle in her chest. At least, for now, Trixie could think she would be okay._ _ _

___“Can I have your number then?” Trixie asked, half-a-smile painted on her lips._ _ _

___“Definitely,” Brianna fished out her phone and handed it to Trixie, who typed her number in just as Katya reappeared._ _ _

___Katya looked thoroughly refreshed. She was grinning, her eyes flitting between both girls with interest. “I was gonna get us slushies but they were five dollars, mama, I was _not_ -” Katya paused, her mischievous grin fading to a curious one. She handed her haul, a pail of popcorn and three water bottles, to both girls, casually throwing a bag of salt  & vinegar chips into Brianna’s handbag. “Did I miss something?” _ _ _

___“No, no, just chatting, getting along,” Brianna said, taking her arm away from Trixie’s shoulder to bring Katya in for another, grossly affectionate kiss. “Why? Did _we_ miss something?” _ _ _

___“I saw a homeless guy wanking it during my smoke break?”_ _ _

___✘✘✘_ _ _

___Brianna fought Katya about seeing that gypsy movie the whole way, all the way up until they were pushing out the door of the festival to grab an early dinner._ _ _

___It was honestly fucking hysterical._ _ _

___They play-fought the whole goddamn walk, even as they strode arm and arm with Trixie hanging leisurely at Brianna’s other side._ _ _

___“You couldn’t have let me see _the one_ movie I asked for!” Katya pressed, laughter punctuating her words. _ _ _

___“Oh my _God_!” Brianna sounded stressed, irritated, but she was smiling, her eyes shining as she gazed at Katya. “It’s some dumb 90s movie that--” _ _ _

___“It came out in _2001_ , bitch!” _ _ _

___Trixie snorted loudly. “You guys are so _annoying_ , it’s literally no wonder we never hang out!”_ _ _

___“No!” Katya took Brianna by the waist and brought her in. “We’re quarreling lovers, it is _cute_! Oh my God, we are _so cute!_ ” _ _ _

___“Gross--”_ _ _

___“Yeah, well, we’re gonna go make out in the bathroom and leave you to eat your vegetarian cocktail sausages like a sad, single Barbie,” Katya teased._ _ _

___Trixie gave Katya’s arm a rather violent smack, reaching across Brianna to do so. “You can suck my ass, you garbage, fucking dildo!”_ _ _

___“Oh honey, _Dildo_? Trixie, this is a deluxe-edition Hitachi Magic Wand right there, I’ll have you know!” Brianna laughed, her hand wrapping tightly around Trixie’s thin wrist. _ _ _

___Katya burst into a loud, bright laughter, wheezing and practically screaming. Some bystanders gave the girls quizzical looks, but they kept on past them. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you referring to my mouth or my hands?”_ _ _

___“Baby, I don’t care, just give it to me right there,” Brianna moaned, barely containing her laughter._ _ _

___“Oh, my God!” Trixie ripped from Brianna’s grip as she was struck with silence. How does one even respond to that? “You-- why- why-??”_ _ _

___“Oh come on,” Katya began. “You know you’ve always wanted a piece of all this...” Katya spent the next thirty seconds running her hands very un-seductively up and down her torso, her hips._ _ _

___“Is it a hate-crime if I kill both of you, _right now_?” Trixie asked disgustedly. _ _ _

___“Yes,” Both girls said in unison, their eyes sparkling mischievously._ _ _

___“I’ll take the jail time,” Trixie playfully went at both Katya and Brianna, but Katya grabbed the taller girl’s wrists in her own. Trixie always forgot how strong she was._ _ _

___“Kat--” Trixie laughed, struggling in her grasp. “Come _on_ , let me win something!” she whined. _ _ _

___Katya laughed as she staved Trixie off. “By letting you murder me?”_ _ _

___“ _Yes_! I should’ve done it _four_ months ago when I had the chance!” Trixie teased. _ _ _

___“Trixie, now you just sound like some bad movie villain,” Brianna stifled her laughter with a hand over her mouth._ _ _

___Katya finally released Trixie’s wrists and they resumed walking. Except for this time, Trixie walked between the two women. Better safe than sorry, right?_ _ _

___“How many more blocks is it until the restaurant? I wanna get in there, get a table, and sneak out the bathroom window when the check comes.”_ _ _

___Both girls burst into laughter._ _ _

___“It’s like a block in a half, okay?” Brianna promised as Katya wiped a stray tear from her eye._ _ _

___It was like they’d known each other forever. That group of friends in movies that have too much chemistry, the ones you envy, the ones girls only dream of having._ _ _

___She wished she’d loved Brianna Cracker sooner. That would’ve solved _so many_ problems._ _ _

___True to her word, Brianna led the group a block and a half to a place called _Esmeralda_ , a small cafe on the corner. A little bell rang above the door as they entered and Trixie was almost blinded by her surroundings. _ _ _

___It was… _colorful,_ to say the least. The establishment had no rhyme, no reason to its design. Just colors, bright and loud, tapestries hung all over the place, lamps instead of overhead lights that gave the room a pleasant, golden-hour glow. There were trinkets on shelves, a huge pride flag lining the brick accent wall, and many, many photos and plants. It was a nice place, Trixie thought. The scent of warm, freshly-baked bread filled Trixie’s nostrils and she was immediately reminded of how hungry she was. _ _ _

___“Table in the back,” Katya said, pointing towards a few seats nestled between the accent wall and a window._ _ _

___The trio made their way to the table, laughed a bit at Brianna’s struggle to climb into the bar chair, and then settled in with the preset menus to look over. As soon as they sat, Katya’s arm wound around Brianna as she brought her in for another kiss._ _ _

___“Ugh,” Trixie rolled her eyes, a small laugh on her lips. “I thought we covered this. Keep it in your pants.”_ _ _

___Brianna and Katya both giggled over their menus._ _ _

___“I hope this place is okay?” Brianna offered sheepishly. “The whole menu is vegetarian, and my friends Tammie and Monet work here--”_ _ _

___“Babe, we already knew you had good taste.”_ _ _

___“Bri, it’s great, really.” Trixie assured. “Don’t even worry about it.”_ _ _

___And she was being honest. Trixie had plenty of options, the atmosphere was peaceful, nice, and… she got to spend it with her best friend and her newly-found friendship._ _ _

___“Hey, I meant to ask,” Brianna laughed. “What’s going on with you and Adore-- ow! Katya, don’t squeeze so hard!” Brianna batted Katya’s hand off her waist; Katya, who was looking rather expressionless._ _ _

___“Sorry, babe--”_ _ _

___“Adore’s with Bianca, now,” Trixie said shortly. “We were just… uh, having fun, I guess.”_ _ _

___“Wait--” Katya cocked her head. “They’re together after _last night_?” She asked, incredulous._ _ _

___“That’s what Adore - ehm - explained, I think?” Trixie cringed, her eyes flitting around the restaurant, searching for their waitress._ _ _

___“Yeah, but, Bianca was in _such_ a rough place with that--” Katya shook her head. “She was so… I don’t know… broken? I was going to kill Adore for pulling that shit and you’re telling me it fucking _worked_?” _ _ _

___“It’s hard to imagine Bianca so broken up like that,” Brianna mused._ _ _

___“Yeah, no,” Trixie shrugged. “Adore was a mess without her and I guess they cleaned it all up last night.”_ _ _

___“ _God_ , after all that and _this_ is how they reconcile? I learned way more about the two of them than I _ever_ wanted to know,” Brianna said. “To be honest, I’m already so invested in this telenovela. But are _you_ good with it, Trix?” She asked tentatively._ _ _

____Was she?_ Trixie didn’t know._ _ _

___“Yeah, I mean, I knew it was coming. They’re just sort of... connected in that way, I guess,” Trixie shrugged._ _ _

___“Beshert,” Brianna confirmed._ _ _

___“Um, bless you?” Trixie said, perplexed._ _ _

___Brianna laughed. “No, that’s Yiddish; it means that they’re actual soulmates, they were meant to be,” she clarified._ _ _

___Katya cleared her throat suddenly, eyes grazing over one of the preset menus. “They’re actually fucking cunts, is what they are,” she mumbled into her menu._ _ _

___ _

___As if by the force of God herself, Trixie saw their waitress walking idly over to them. A tall, dark-skinned woman. She had big curly hair, done up in perfect ringlets Trixie could only dream of, and her eye-shadow was silver, sparkly, perfectly applied over her lid. She matched the vibe of the place, relaxed, chic. As she approached the table her eyes immediately befell Cracker._ _ _

___“Cracks! Hey, gorgeous! What’re you doing in Somerville this afternoon?” The waitress’s tag said Monet and Trixie found that name to be oddly fitting._ _ _

___“Hey!” Brianna lit up like a Christmas tree. Or a menorah, to be precise. “I was just here for the film festival! I haven’t seen you in forever!”_ _ _

___“Yeah, I was down in St. Lucia for like two weeks, soaking up the family and the sun, y’know? Who’s the peanut gallery?” she waved her pen around the table, bright smiles to all with teeth _almost_ as perfect as Katya’s. _ _ _

___“Oh! This is my girlfriend, Katya,” Brianna began, gently grasping Katya’s hand. “And our friend Trixie! They work at Jacque’s down on Washington. You know the Cabaret…?”_ _ _

___Trixie gave Monet the biggest smile she could muster, a short wave as she tried to seem inviting, pleasant._ _ _

___“Oh, yeah! People are always talking about that place, talking about Ru, you know?” Monet smiled. “I heard your _Rocky Horror_ was amazing! Sorry I couldn’t make it down for it--” _ _ _

___A chorus of ‘thank you’s’ and reassurances spilled from both Katya’s and Trixie’s lips._ _ _

___Finally, Trixie asked shyly: “So, how do you two know each other?”_ _ _

___“Oh, through this place--” Brianna began._ _ _

___“--And we dated for a while,” Monet finished. “She used to come down here every week to flirt with me.”_ _ _

___Brianna waved her hand scandalously. “That is un-fucking-true!” she turned to Katya. “It was down the street from my old office, and I’d grab coffee on my break--”_ _ _

___“Mmhmm,” Monet pursed her lips, pointing her pen at Katya. “You know how this bitch finally asked me out? I was writin’ her name on her coffee cup and she said ‘you can add your number too if you want! How lame is that?”_ _ _

___Trixie laughed brightly. “Oh God, Bri, that’s _so_ stupid.” _ _ _

___“Shut up! I was twenty-one and dumb--”_ _ _

___“That was _only_ four years ago…!” _ _ _

___Amongst the dumb commotion and laughter, Trixie found her eyes wandering to Katya’s._ _ _

___It was rare, the moments she couldn’t read her best friend. But this happened to be one of them. Katya was watching nearly expressionless, her head cocked to one side as it rested on her hand. She squinted a little whenever Brianna touched Monet or vice versa._ _ _

___Trixie slid her toes along Katya’s calf beneath the table, a come-to-attention gesture that had Katya dragging her eyes to meet her best friend’s. Trixie lifted her brows with a _‘you ok?’_ look and Katya shook her head dismissively. _ _ _

___She didn’t necessarily think there was anything _wrong_ with Katya. She didn’t seem the type to get jealous or crowd her significant other. But something was going through that blonde head and Trixie was aching to find out what. _ _ _

___“Hey,” Katya spoke quietly. It took Trixie a minute to realize it was towards her._ _ _

___“Yeah?” Trixie glanced at Brianna. She was already lost in gentle banter with Monet, something about her writing, Trixie thought._ _ _

___“I’ve been meaning to ask,”_ _ _

___Uh oh._ _ _

___“Are you, like, okay? Brianna said you were really upset and wouldn’t talk about it and I’ve been worrying, but I didn’t wanna ask in front of her--”_ _ _

___It was clear Katya was only asking in a time of distraction, as of Trixie wouldn’t want to talk about it in front of Brianna. It was kind of sweet._ _ _

___“We talked about it,” Trixie said gently._ _ _

___“Oh-- you, uh, what?”_ _ _

___“Brianna and I talked through it,” Trixie said coolly, glancing over to the two, reunited friends. She had zero desire to get into _that_ whole thing again. “Earlier, I think I’m okay, now.” _ _ _

___“Can I ask what--?”_ _ _

___At that moment, Trixie didn't think much of that interaction. It wasn’t until she looked back that maybe, _maybe_ Katya felt a little too out of the loop. _ _ _

___“Oh! You guys _gotta_ meet Tammie! Please tell me she’s in!” Brianna clung to Monet’s arm as she spoke, an excited smile on her pink lips. _ _ _

___“Yeah, she’s _always_ in! I’ll get her, but first--” Monet turned to the rest of the table. “Can I get you guys some drinks to start? Cracks, I’m assuming you still want your raspberry tea refresher, dumb--” _ _ _

___“You’re an asshole, and _yes_ ,” Brianna giggled. “You absolute cunt.” _ _ _

___“Trixie?” Monet smiled. “You?”_ _ _

___“Water, please, and thank you,” Trixie smiled._ _ _

___Katya scratched the back of her head when Monet gestured to her. Her fingers were twitching again, and Trixie could tell her basic instincts were fighting for a cigarette._ _ _

___ _

___“Water, too, actually,”_ _ _

___Trixie brought her foot along Katya’s calf, more to be comforting, to be helpful than anything else. Trixie thought it worked because the reaction she found was Katya’s lips curling into a soft smile towards her menu._ _ _

___Monet returned a few moments later with a short, skinny woman. She was clad in a floor-length, bodycon polka-dot dress, and her hair was fucking _Ariel_ red with messy, frizzy curls. _ _ _

___“Hiya, hello, hi. Welcome to _Esmerelda’s_ , Cracker, my salty little friend, welcome back,” Tammie leaned in and blew gentle kisses at Brianna. “Oh, and here’s this--” Tammie set a small plate in front of the girls. “Brie. On a Cracker for my favorite late night snack.” _ _ _

___Brianna giggled, embarrassed, covering her mouth and her blush, even Katya perked up at the woman’s oddly welcoming demeanor._ _ _

___Trixie stifled her laughter and she had the automatic instinct to grab this woman and never let her go._ _ _

___“Tammie, you’ve met my girlfriend Katya--”_ _ _

___“Oh, how sweet. And is this one your… side… lady?” Tammie gestured to Trixie, her eyes bright, kind, totally non-judgemental._ _ _

___Trixie would’ve said yes if it meant this woman would befriend her._ _ _

___“No, no, no” Brianna laughed, shaking her head at the ridiculousness. “This is our friend Trixie.”_ _ _

___Tammie gasped adorably. “Trixie Pixie! Oh-!” she leaned in and cupped Trixie’s face in her hands. “How very pretty, Trixie Pixie!”_ _ _

___Trixie stifled her laughter, the sound building and suffocating her. Out of the corner of her eye, Katya was shaking, her mouth hidden behind her menu while Brianna looked as apologetic as humanly possible._ _ _

___“Thank you… so much,” Trixie breathed, placing her hands over Tammie’s. She was surprised she didn’t choke._ _ _

___“Of course.” she removed her hands. “You ladies are always welcome back to my little paradise, yes?” she knocked the table with two knuckles. “ _Man_ et, honey, make sure they get their order on the house--”_ _ _

___“Oh, Tammie, you don’t have to--” Brianna began._ _ _

___“Hah! Hah! Hah!” Tammie wiggled her finger. “This is _my_ vine in _my_ little fig tree and I’m making the sitting rules.” _ _ _

___Call it gay, but Trixie was fully in love._ _ _

___She looked at Katya with the most amused and tickled expression, and Katya returned it. Trixie wondered, briefly, if she could convince Katya to quit Jacque’s and work for Tammie._ _ _

___Eventually, Tammie bid the girls goodbye to tend to her duties. Trixie was far too sad to see her go and absolutely made Brianna promised to bring her back. They ordered their food, chatted expletives - Trixie bringing up Tammie more than was probably considered _normal_ \- and eventually made their leave. Trixie walked at Katya’s side. They wandered back to the car, a few blocks back to where they had parked across from the theatre. The sun was nearly gone behind the horizon, the coldest part of the evening settling beneath Trixie’s coat, into her bones. _ _ _

___“I’m so ready to go to sleep,” Trixie said softly, “maybe Tammie will come into my room and put me to bed.”_ _ _

___“Oh _my_ God!” Brianna slammed her hand on the dash and laughed. “You’re never meeting her again!” _ _ _

___Katya laughed uncontrollably from the driver’s seat, hitting her hands on the wheel. “Oh my God - okay wait - who am I taking home first?” Katya asked, glancing in her rearview. “Hold up, I’m just going to cherish this moment of getting to take you both home. This is literally all I could think about last night.”_ _ _

___“Ew, gross!” Trixie protested, blushing profusely in the dark._ _ _

___“Me, I think,” Brianna replied, ignoring Katya’s antics and reaching over the console to take her hand._ _ _

___“Wait, you’re not going home with Katya?” Trixie asked, buckling herself in. She took out her phone, checked her notifications. A few texts from Kim, a few texts from Alaska… still nothing from Pearl. She closed her phone._ _ _

___“No, I have a _major_ deadline and I told her she can’t distract me,” Brianna was clicking through her own phone. “Right, baby?” _ _ _

___Katya made a noncommittal mumbling noise and focused her eyes on the road. Trixie shrugged in response and settled herself back into her seat. It wasn’t long before they pulled up to Brianna’s apartment building._ _ _

___“I’ll see you at tomorrow’s show?” Katya asked her, her hand resting on Brianna’s cheek._ _ _

___“I’ll try, baby. I love you,” Brianna leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Katya’s lips. Trixie was sure it would’ve lingered if not for her own presence._ _ _

___“I love you too,” Katya smiled. As they spoke, Trixie climbed from the backseat, ready to take her place beside Katya. But when Brianna stood out of the car, she tugged Trixie into a long, sweet hug. Trixie reciprocated gratefully, even despite having to lean down a bit to hold her._ _ _

___“Remember, you have my number now. No more crises alone.” Brianna said with a soft smile. “I’ll see you later. Bye, Trixie!”_ _ _

___“Bye, Bri!” Trixie watched as Brianna skipped into the apartment building, door closing behind her._ _ _

___“You’re letting the heat out! My pussy is freezing to death!” Katya called. Trixie groaned and climbed in the passenger seat, slamming the door beside her._ _ _

___“You’re so annoying,” Trixie said, crossing her legs. “I hate you.”_ _ _

___“Aww, has your love for me been replaced by Tammie? I’m hurt,” Katya pulled away from the building and onto the main road, her hand reaching over the console for Trixie’s._ _ _

___Instead, Trixie batted it playfully away. “Yes, fuck off! Tammie spoke to my soul. She loves me, she’s my present and my future, you are now a thing of the past. Tammie and I are _beshert_ , Katya,” she tried on the new word._ _ _

___Katya snorted. “But _I_ love you!” she argued. _ _ _

___Trixie crossed her arms. “Prove it!”_ _ _

___“Well, I’m not in a position in which I can grab your face and say ‘Trixie Pixie’, am I?” Katya laughed softly. “We’d fucking die!”_ _ _

___Trixie scoffed jokingly. “Worth it. You’d die in a blaze of confessing your love. I think it's totally worth it.”_ _ _

___Katya wheezed, her hand slamming on the wheel again. “God, you’re a brat!”_ _ _

___“And yet, you still entertain me.”_ _ _

___This… this felt _so_ good. Trixie could close her eyes and laugh with Katya forever. It had been so, so long since they had a moment, a brief second to just _breathe_ with one another, to be themselves.  
All the shit they’d been clouded by, and now for a moment, it was like the sun had peeked from its cavern in the clouds. Like it was shining down on the one relationship that felt so _right_ to Trixie. _ _ _

___She reached out and took Katya’s hand, let the warmth of Katya’s palm fill her own._ _ _

___“Today was a lot of fun,” she said finally. “I missed you a lot.”_ _ _

___“You wanna just… spend the night?” Katya asked quickly, her eyes glancing from the road to Trixie. “I mean… it doesn’t have to end.”_ _ _

___Trixie opened her mouth to respond an immediate yes, a confirmation for all confirmations, but…_ _ _

___She stopped._ _ _

___First of all, because now that she was friends with Brianna, she cared about how she felt. And her and Katya being close and all was one thing, but she was just a tad bit afraid of, well, crossing some kind of a line. Making her feel like _anything_ might happen between her and Katya. And second of all, she didn’t know how she felt about leaving Adore alone in the hotel room all night, with just Trixie’s car to get to the Cabaret in the morning._ _ _

___But, _God_ she really wanted to say yes. _ _ _

____A hard fucking yes._ _ _ _

___“I don’t think I can,” she said softly, watching Katya’s face shift a little. “Adore wouldn’t be able to get to the club and I’m _not_ letting her drive my--” _ _ _

___“Oh,” Katya pursed her lips. “I understand - although - you know we could pick her up-?” Katya’s thumb began stroking gentle circles on Trixie’s hand. She could feel it in her chest when Katya made a sharp turn onto the next street. Trixie felt a painful, longing pull towards her like she might possibly die if Katya’s hand left hers._ _ _

___“Katya, I really, really want to. But Brianna and Adore--”_ _ _

___“Well, Bri won’t care, bab-- Trixie,” Katya shook her head. “She won’t care. Come on, stop acting like such a _mom_ ,” Katya gave Trixie’s hand a sharp squeeze. “We can listen to _Hedwig_ and eat junk food?” she offered. “It’s only like - what? Seven-thirty?” _ _ _

___Trixie smiled. “Getting to take me home, finally?”_ _ _

___“Is that a yes?” Katya wiggled her brows hopefully._ _ _

___Trixie shook her head and smiled. “It’s a yes, you fucking cretin.”_ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all<3  
> Me:[@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Oro: [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)


	18. A Tectonic Shift, but Make It Fashion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Trixie had with Adore was _nothing_ like her relationship with Katya, she thought. It was just simple, comforting, incredibly close. _Incredibly hot_ , her mind completed, and Trixie could kick herself for it.  
>  _Well, not anymore,_ the thought hit her more bitterly than she would have liked. She loved how natural and uncomplicated things were with Adore. She was a song to rock out to, irresistibly fresh and contagious; not an unbearably drawn-out, mysteriously beautiful foreign-language growl you could never decipher the mood of but always got stuck in your head.
> 
> Not that anyone _was_ that. But just, like, if you needed to compare Adore to something totally different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Bonjour, Hola, היוש, & Приве́т!  
> Oro and I have returned with another installment of this slow burn shitshow! I know it's taken us a bit longer than usual to get chapters out but that's only because our lives are falling apart in alternating shifts and we have to take care of that! We'd both like to thank you for your patience, dedication, and support because I don't think we could do this without it. It means so much to us. Especially now that we're both back on track! I hope to start getting chapters out on a ten-day basis again. 
> 
> If ya like, leave some comments and kudos! If you're feeling a lil frisky, come visit Oro and I on the Tumblr!   
> Anna: [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Oro: [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)

Soft morning light filtered through the small, unclean windows of Katya’s basement, illuminating the remnants of last night. Discarded purses, half-eaten cookies, and fully-empty, lipstick-stained, coffee mugs lay scattered in a mess across Katya’s improvised, wooden, coffee table. Her pack of cigarettes lay on the floor, unopened, a testament to successful efforts on Trixie’s part not to “die of smoke inhalation in your disgusting Josef Fritzl Stockholm syndrome sorry-ass excuse of a basement, thank you very much”. On the small sofa lay a pile consisting of just about every blanket Katya owned - including the thick duvet stripped from her bed - covering the two sleeping women up to their noses.

Katya woke up to a soft kick from a very sweet, very much asleep Trixie Mattel. Katya’s arms were wound around the younger girl’s waist, her weight pleasantly heavy against Katya’s hands. She instinctively tightened her embrace, trying to shift into a more comfortable position on the tiny sofa without waking Trixie up.  
The two friends had been up until the small hours of the night, promises of making it an early night long forgotten. Katya hadn’t laughed so much in - she didn’t even know how long. Their connection - as it always was - was palpable, tangible through every joke, every laugh, every smile they shared. It made it impossible for either to turn away, to roll over and insist on their early night’s rest.  
Under the weight of Trixie, of the lack of sleep, and her early morning grogginess, Katya smiled. 

Trixie shifted again and made the slightest of noises. For a moment, Katya feared she had done something to wake her friend, but Trixie settled her head back beneath Katya’s chin.  
It was amazing how they’d managed to fall asleep comfortably, squished together on Katya’s couch, especially after Trixie’s insistence upon _not_ taking up the bed (even if it was only a few feet away). It’d been all movies and snacks, jokes and complaints of Katya’s cold, cold home. One blanket, two, three; Katya lost count after she’d tugged her duvet down and into the living room. Trixie’s cold fingers, cold toes, the way Katya had relented to holding her hands to her lips until she warmed up. 

_“I don’t know which is going to get me sick first, the negative temperatures at your place or the communicable diseases you’re breathing onto my skin.”_

_“Trixie, that’s not how it works.”_

_“It’s a joke, you humorless vibrator.”_

Katya was almost entirely awake now, the weight of Trixie becoming slightly more unbearable as the minutes ticked by. Her arm was definitely numb and it was so _fucking_ hot. She considered moving, but one peek at Trixie’s sleeping face, her rising and falling chest… Katya couldn’t bear it. Trixie was bathed in light, her blonde curls framing her beautiful face. Her steady breathing made Katya overly aware of her own irregular heartbeat. Something in that moment made her think she wouldn’t mind just staying there.

Until she heard keys in the door upstairs. 

It was a quiet jingle, honestly probably quieter than Katya should’ve been able to hear, but nonetheless, the sound was too hard to miss, even in her dreamy, Trixie-filled state. 

The light footsteps that followed the sound of the door opening could only belong to one girl. 

“ _Baby_!” 

Katya didn’t even have time to think, let alone wake up young Dolly, who was suddenly, suffocatingly pinning her to the couch cushions. 

The footsteps were getting louder, faster, and Brianna’s voice was too goddamn happy for - God, Katya didn’t even know _what_ time it was.

“Katya! You won’t fucking believe the call-” 

Katya groaned a little, her eyes flitting to the corner where Brianna appeared. 

“Oh, what’s this?” She stopped in her tracks, her confidence suddenly wavering.

“Hey, babe,” Katya raised the hand that was wrapped around Trixie’s waist and waved nonchalantly. “Shhh, the baby is sleeping,” she whispered, pointing at Trixie.

Trixie didn’t so much as stir. 

Brianna’s lips stretched into a fond smile, her voice lowering a little to accommodate Trixie. “Was she okay last night?”

“Yeah,” Katya assured. “Why?” 

Reluctantly, Katya began manipulating her arm out from under Trixie, groaning from the numbness, the pins and needles shooting up her arm. 

“I was just making sure. As I said, she was pretty broken up the night before,” Brianna commented. “But she, uh, certainly looks better.” 

After reviving the nerve-endings in her arm, Katya raised herself over Trixie’s hip, careful not to put too much pressure. In hindsight, maybe she should’ve just slept in her own bed.  
When she landed on her feet, Katya restored the state of her blankets on Trixie and relished in the cool air hitting her newly exposed skin. 

Brianna’s soothing presence, Katya noted, seemed so natural in the aura of her home. She looked particularly lovely, clad in a smart, tightly fitting Barbie pink button-up top and black jeans. Katya wasted no time bringing her into her arms for a disgusting, “haven’t brushed my teeth yet” good morning kiss reserved for new couples, her fingers tangling in those perfect blonde waves. Brianna, nevertheless, fell into the embrace, melted against Katya’s very touches. 

“Good morning, baby,” Brianna whispered, her fingers delicately tracing the sides of Katya’s face. Sometimes, Katya couldn’t believe her own luck. She didn’t hate herself, exactly, but she was definitely unworthy of all she’s been given. Something about that small bird of a lover felt so fragile, and Katya was always on the brink of destruction; yet, Brianna always looked at her as if she trusted her with her life.

_She probably shouldn’t have done that._

“Good morning, beautiful.” Katya smiled at her. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?” With a quick glance Trixie’s way, Katya slipped her hands into Brianna’s pockets, her fingers digging in the denim of those black jeans; she just couldn’t help herself.

Brianna’s brown eyes sparkled, her entire body bubbling with an excitement Katya couldn’t quite place. Katya hadn’t seen her she like this since they’d finally gotten around to establishing their relationship - a mere two months ago. It felt like so much longer. 

“Something incredible happened this morning,” she said, her hands now moving to feel the taut, exposed flesh of Katya’s muscular arms. Goosebumps rose in Brianna’s wake and Katya vaguely hoped this would be a celebratory-sex-kind-of-situation. Wait, no. Trixie was still there.

“Yeah? Wanna get away from the sofa, then?” Katya whispered, her fingers pressing into Brianna’s lower back, pulling her closer. “I don’t wanna wake up sleeping beauty,” Katya nodded towards Trixie, facedown in a mess of blankets and blonde. Brianna’s eyes followed Katya’s and her face softened. 

“Did we accidentally adopt her?” she asked. 

“More like - you married me and now you’re the step-mom she’s still getting used to - kind of thing,” Katya casually corrected, guiding Brianna to the kitchen with a hand on her lower back. She peered back at Trixie one last time before turning to start some coffee, offering a Brianna a cup in the meantime. When she settled, Katya turned back to her lover. 

“I actually quite like the sound of that,” Brianna finally said, keeping her tone light. Katya’s eyes met Brianna’s, and for a moment she felt a hint of seriousness in that look, suddenly very much aware of her own choice of words. _There’s truth to every joke,_ her mother would say, the R’s rolling sweetly off of her tongue. So Katya’s jokes became more and more nonsensical, her humor exaggerated; in her attempt to create misdirection, she’d inadvertently covered her whole entire self in truth. _You married me_. She wasn’t shy by any means, but she could feel herself flush at Brianna’s forwardness. Katya held Brianna’s gaze and waited.

“I got a call from fucking _Time Out New York_ , Katya, I-” Brianna started, her excitement getting in the way of her usual eloquence. She took Katya’s hands in her own. “They want me, they- they offered me a position as an _editor_ , Katya. Can you imagine? I guess word does get around, I don’t even- I mean, I did apply, but I didn’t think anyone would actually pick my resume off the pile? I-” The words came out fast, jumbled, and Brianna’s giddiness was contagious. Katya pried her hands away only to place them firmly on Bri’s tiny waist and pick her up in the air, spinning and laughing. She was so, so proud of her girl.  
At that moment, she didn’t care about waking Trixie up; she wouldn’t have cared if she woke up the entire building, but Brianna placed her hand over Katya’s mouth to keep the noise down to a minimum. At last, she finally stopped for a breath, only for Brianna’s hand to be replaced by her lips. Katya relished in the delicate, silent gesture unable to suppress her tickled grin against Brianna’s lips. 

“You goddamn corporate whore!” Katya smacked her girlfriend’s arm. “Look at you! Climbing up the ladder with all the other capitalist piggies!” 

“Shut up!” Brianna retorted, bringing Katya in for another kiss, this one longer, deeper. “Aren’t you proud of me?” She asked, breaking the kiss just long enough to trace a line down Katya’s jaw with her finger. 

Katya couldn’t help but grin. “Of _course_ I am. God, Brianna, I’m- I’m more than proud- I love you so much.” 

“Glad you said that,” Brianna let out a puff of air and a nervous laugh. She broke their embrace, putting some space between the two of them. “Because I’m gonna do it. I’m moving to New York.”

Katya paused, opened her mouth to speak but Brianna continued. _Moving to New York._ Of course. Brianna couldn’t stay in Boston, she’d have to- but then, it would mean -

“...and I want you to come with me.”

_Wait, what?_ Katya stared at Brianna dumbly, as if she’d given her the entire moon and Katya had no vase to put it in.

“Katya, I _love_ you. And I know we haven’t been together very long, and I know you have your whole safety net here. Ru, your parents…” Brianna’s eyes flicked to the living room. “...Trixie, but. But, this could be fucking _good_ for us. You could get an even _better_ job, with all the experience you have! And it’s not that far baby, seriously, we could come back on the weekends-” 

Brianna is asking her to move in with her. 

Brianna is asking her to move three hours away and live with her. 

And Katya is going to say _yes_. 

Because what else can she say?

Katya has always been and always will be about making exciting, life-changing decisions in the most impulsive way possible. And while a lot of them haven’t always been the _healthiest_ of choices, looking into Brianna’s eyes, looking at her standing shy and nervous in her kitchen, Katya knew, she fucking _knew_ , that this would be a good one. For once in her damn life, Katya was going to make the right decision, and she was going to make it count. She can be that girl. She _will_ be that girl.

“Brianna,” Katya said plainly. “Baby, you don’t even have to ask.” 

Katya surprised herself with how calm, how level-headed, and how steady she was. She had never even imagined herself as a real adult, and yet, there she was. It was like watching in slow motion, the way Brianna ran back into her arms, placed several kisses on her lips, on her face. Brianna mumbled something rushed, some sort of elated gratitude Katya could barely hear. Katya could feel herself smiling, laughing, unbridled despite Trixie in the next room. 

God, _Trixie_. 

Amongst the hugs and kisses, Katya’s eyes flicked to the main room where she could just barely see that pile of blonde hair, splayed over the arm of the couch. 

She could make it without Trixie, right? She did it for twenty-six years, she could certainly withstand only seeing her every couple of weekends for a day or two. Honestly, Trixie would be worse off without Katya than Katya without Trixie. 

Oh, God. That was an _awful_ thing to think. 

Suddenly, something constricted within Katya; as if the world had been divided into two timelines starting at that moment. She could see their two roads diverging from that point, lost to each other beyond repair, and it was she - a grown adult making her grown adult decisions - who had caused it. Whatever happens now, she knew, would be on her, and it was all getting to be too much, too fast.

Katya pulled Brianna in for a well-needed, preemptive kiss to stave off the anxiety she already felt bubbling in her stomach. She needed Brianna. She breathed through her mouth, a needy kiss to which Brianna replied with an excited hunger. That was the thing about Brianna; her reactions to Katya’s behavior were never anticipated by Katya herself, but they were always exactly what she didn’t even know she needed at that moment. Brianna didn’t complete her or complimented her - she literally saved her. Eventually, Katya could breathe freely again, and their kisses had turned passionate, celebratory. Brianna moaned against her lips, her short lesbian nails digging adoringly into Katya’s pale skin. Katya couldn’t help but grin, mumbling her pride, her anxious excitement into their kisses, the very eye of her storm.

“I’ll have to call their office and get everything straightened out. We need to find a place, you’ll have to look for a job-” Brianna said eventually, once they’d both regained some composure. But one question nagged at Katya’s mind. 

“When?” Katya asked quietly. 

“Hm? Oh! They want me there like… mid-February? So we have almost three months.” 

Katya didn’t know how in the hell she was going to tell everyone at Jacque’s. _RuPaul._ Ru’s carried her through the last several years, she’s living in his goddamn building for fuck’s sake - he might actually be relieved to finally get her out of that apartment, she thought with a small pang of guilt. Her parents. God, will her mother be happy to see her out of the dreaded Cabaret, or will she be a nervous, motherfucking mess? Either way, Katya could already hear the beginning of _that_ speech rolling towards her like a distant thunder. 

But _fuck_ , Brianna made her so happy. And New York could make her happy, too. 

She deserved that. She deserved to take a goddamn chance on herself, on _life_. She was going to make something more of her life with this opportunity, with her _woman_ at her side. 

How in the hell she could execute this leap of tomfuckery was totally TBD, but she was gonna do this. She was gonna do this for herself. 

_God_ , Katya needed a moment just to relish in the excitement. New York. _New York Fucking City_. Katya would be able to visit Michelle _way_ more than Michelle would actually want her to. Fuck, this an _amazing_ opportunity. 

Everyone would totally understand. Right? 

✘✘✘  


Trixie was blinded by exhaustion on all fronts. Emotionally, physically (fucking Katya keeping her up until 2 AM). She’d never experienced so many emotional highs and lows in such a short span of time and it showed. Or at least, she thought it showed. When Katya had woken her that morning (more like, scared the ever living shit out of her by standing two inches from her face and _staring_ ), she could barely stand the idea of _another_ rehearsal, _another_ show. She freed herself out from under her cocoon of blankets, groaned as she felt the cold air envelope her bare skin and litter her in goosebumps. She rubbed her eyes, stretched her cramped limbs, and watched as Katya pulled some ridiculously intricate yoga poses on the carpet in front of her.  
She felt disgusting. She felt like she’d gone on some bender and left her body to rot somewhere cold and dank. She trudged her heavy limbs to the bathroom, each step regretful, cold. She took one look in the mirror and sagged at her puffy face, baggy eyes, limp curls that were in desperate need of a pick-me-up and some product.

“Damn, mama, wish I looked that good in the morning,” Katya teased, pressing a kiss to Trixie’s temple. She had a handful of clothes, no doubt for Trixie, that she placed on the vanity. Trixie’s small smile matched Katya’s own. 

It was like Katya could suck the sadness right out of her. 

“Yeah,” Trixie huffed, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder. “You’ll never look this good.” 

Katya snorted and rested her hands on Trixie’s shoulders. “You sleep okay?” she asked. 

“Crushed against your sweaty ass all night?” Trixie retorted. “Don’t know how Bri does it, Katya.”

“You were the one who was shivering all night!” Katya curled her arms around Trixie’s waist so they were flush against each other. Trixie could already feel the warmth permeating through her clothes, feel Katya vibrating with excitement for the upcoming day. “Why don’t you appreciate what I have to offer you?” Katya whined, jutting her lip at their reflection.  
Trixie was transfixed by the two of them, the way they complimented each other in the disgustingly low, yellow light. This was nothing new; their relationship had always been full of these little touches - hell, hadn’t they just slept together hours ago, bodies crushed against one another in a fort of blankets? - but it felt so long since Katya touched Trixie quite like this, and her entire body seemed to react to the way Katya’s hands fit just right on her waist. Katya’s breath tickled her shoulder.

_Oh, wow._

“All you have to offer is B.O. and bad fashion,” Trixie said with finality, settling for jamming her elbow back into Katya’s ribs, hopefully not hard enough to hurt. 

“I smell fucking _incredible_ ,” Katya removed herself from Trixie and took the small wad of clothes back into her arms. “And you can go to rehearsal _naked_ for all I care-” Katya paused, a sly grin slowly spreading across her face. Trixie groaned before she even said it. “Actually, _can_ you?” she lifted her brows, giving Trixie a nasty grin. 

Trixie took Katya by the shoulder and shoved her out. “No, I can’t. But you can ask Adore for the details,” she slammed the door shut. 

She didn’t expect that joke to leave her so winded. 

_What did Adore even have to do with it?_ Trixie shook her head. She barely got to talk to her friend over the past two days, and she figured it was getting to her. At that moment, she missed Adore very much. She missed her so much, she was even responding differently to _Katya’s_ touch. Her body, she reasoned, had quickly gotten used to being touched in such a different way, that her mind didn’t register that this was a friend and not a… whatever Adore was.

What Trixie had with Adore was _nothing_ like her relationship with Katya, she thought. It was just simple, comforting, incredibly close. _Incredibly hot_ , her mind completed, and Trixie could kick herself for it.  
_Well, not anymore,_ the thought hit her more bitterly than she would have liked. She loved how natural and uncomplicated things were with Adore. She was a song to rock out to, irresistibly fresh and contagious; not an unbearably drawn-out, mysteriously beautiful foreign-language growl you could never decipher the mood of but always got stuck in your head.

Not that anyone _was_ that. But just, like, if you needed to compare Adore to something totally different.

Trixie splashed her face with cold water; once, twice, three times, trying to scrub away the disgusting early morning feeling through her routine. 

Katya spent the majority of their morning bouncing around with the gusto of a five-year-old. Trixie couldn’t get a word in to even ask what the hubbub was about, so instead, she found herself sitting back with tired contentment. 

It was one of the best mornings Trixie had had in a while, even with such a rough start. 

Trixie couldn’t quite place a rhyme or reason to Katya’s behavior. She was loud, bouncy, she did about seven yoga poses in the span of a minute and Trixie could hardly keep up. 

She was exhausting. 

But Trixie welcomed the exhaustion, as long as she had Katya. 

“Did you hear us this morning?” Katya had asked while she attempted some headstand. Her feet were dangling helplessly above her head. It looked like she was trying to curl them over her head, the pose probably named something dumb. Like an animal with a weird tail. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop her from laughing when the pose collapsed and Katya was a pile of limbs. 

“What’re you talking about?” 

“Brianna stopped by earlier. She left before you got up because she didn’t finish that deadline,” Katya snickered. “I literally climbed _out from under you_. Nothing?” 

Trixie creased her brows. “What? No, no. She was here?” 

“Oh, oh, yeah-” 

Well, that explains the burst of energy. Katya got laid right under Trixie’s nose (figuratively speaking, she hoped). 

Trixie tried to shake the nasty feeling from her shoulders, hoped that they did it at least a hundred feet from where she lay. But not in the bathroom or the kitchen (she used those areas herself, after all). Knowing Katya, they might as well have done it on the coffee table right in front of her. Maybe on the clothes Katya had leant her, directly off her wardrobe floor. 

“I’m going to go pick up Adore,” Trixie said, fixing the too small sweats she was sporting, courtesy of Katya. “Can I have your keys?”

“No, I’ll get her.” Katya dismissively, now stretched in one of her splits, legs splayed in front of the couch, in front of Trixie. “It’s my car and-”

“What, don’t trust me?” Trixie teased. “You’re the shit driver in this relationship.” 

“Okay, but did you die yesterday?” Katya retorted. 

“My sense of safety did.” 

“You’re such a piss baby. That is gen-u-ine city drivin’!” Katya insisted, her accent thick and striking. Trixie loved that. “Did you know back in the day, you didn’t need a license to drive here? Like turn-of-the-century. Mama, I paid attention in history!” 

“Oh my God, that explains _so_ much,” Trixie said with playful disgust. “Give me your keys, I’m definitely driving.”

“Only if you let me drive your big, hick truck one day.” Katya fished her keys from her sweatshirt pocket and presented them to Trixie. 

“You can’t handle my truck. And I got it from my grandfather. I’d rather not see you trash it,” Trixie reached out, but Katya jerked them from her. Her grin was sly, a little too dark and teasing, even with those perfect teeth. Trixie reached out again, but Katya maneuvered out of her grasp. 

How in the hell she could have nearly two inches on this woman and still get stuck in this situation was beyond Trixie. 

“ _Katya_!” Trixie said warningly. 

“It’s my car!” Katya laughed. 

“You said I could drive it!” Trixie argued, reaching her arm around Katya’s waist to retrieve them. 

“Well, come get them, then, kid. How long have you been driving again? Two months?” Katya teased. 

“I’m _nineteen_! I drove from Wisconsin to Boston on nothing but Redbull and emotional distress! Just give me the goddamn keys before I break your hand,” Trixie attempted to stifle the giggles, half-frustrated, half-entertained.

“Fine.” Katya dangled them above Trixie’s head. “Gimme a small kiss, mama.” Katya pointed to her lips. “Right, here.” 

“Are you serious?” Trixie asked incredulously, her blood immediately running cold. 

 

“No, of course not,” Katya laughed and tossed her keys to Trixie. “But you should’ve seen your fuckin’ face.”

“Oh my God,” Trixie barely missed them, having to stoop over to pick the keys up off the floor. Despite it, Trixie’s anxiety didn’t settle, she still felt sick, felt nauseous, “you’re such a jackass.”

“But still your favorite person,” Katya said softly, placing her hand on the small of Trixie’s back. The two of them traipsed the stairs, Trixie jingling the keys between her fingers to replace the momentary lapse in silence. 

“How much money would you bet on your place looking like a dumpster fire after a night alone?” Katya asked, her fingers still grazing Trixie’s waist. 

“My entire salary,” Trixie groaned. “I’m gonna have to clean up and pack everything and-” 

“You’re moving out! That’s right! Where’s our new place?” 

“Somewhere by the pier, you’ve probably been there more than I have, actually. It’s Aja’s old place.”

“Housewarming party?” Katya gave Trixie’s hip a squeeze. “Except maybe this time, save us the full ‘Trixie Mattel gets smashed out of her mind’ experience. We’ve been there, done that, and now we’re ready for some next-level entertainment, mama,” she teased.

Trixie laughed uncomfortably. “Let’s not talk about that night.” 

“You… definitely showed us a side of you we’ve never seen-” Katya teased. “You and Adore going at it, kinda made me feel-” 

Trixie swung the door to Katya’s place open and immediately she was greeted by Alaska and Adore, both sporting iced coffees and McDonald’s breakfast outside of the dressing room. 

“Trixie!” Adore said with a bright giggle, her arms looping tightly around Trixie’s neck. “Oh my _God_. I missed you so much last night! It was so boring without you - Hi, Katya - How was _your_ night? You should’ve invited me too.” 

Trixie, suddenly barraged with an armful of Adore, laughed. There was a gentle sort of relief there, taking place in her chest at the sight of her. “I missed you too. Seems like you had a good morning though?” Trixie’s eyes flicked to Alaska.

Adore nodded. “We got breakfast and coffee and Alaska played his music so loud in the car,” she laughed, her arm practically attaching itself to Trixie’s waist, booting Katya right off to the side. 

“Thanks for picking her up, Alaska,” Trixie took a sip of Adore’s coffee. “I was just about to go do that - well, Katya and I-” 

Alaska looked between both Trixie and Katya, brows aloft. “Yeah, well, I figured you two could use the morning after-” 

“Not funny,” Katya said sharply. “You know it’s not like that, ‘Laska. I have Brianna-” 

“Oh, is that still on?” Alaska seemed to consider this before sipping his own coffee, smirking around the rim of his cup. “C’mon, Kat. You know I’m fucking with you!” Trixie let her embarrassment bloom into full-on irritation. She was getting more tired of this as the days went on, and she imagined it showed on her face, as Alaska seemed to take a step back as his eyes met hers. 

Trixie shifted a little in Adore’s tight embrace, resting her hip against the girl’s. “So, eh, dressing room?” 

“S’locked,” Adore said, digging through her McDonald’s bag for what would inevitably be a hashbrown. 

“What?” Katya gave Adore a puzzled look. “They never lock it.” she reached for Trixie’s hands, untwining her keys from between Trixie’s fingers. “I’ll get it-” 

“They gave you keys?” Trixie teased. “That’s a lot of trust, I thought this establishment took itself a bit more serious than that.” 

“I’m a big girl, Trixie. I could run this place if I wanted to.” Katya assured, sliding her key in the doorknob. She pulled once, twice, the door making a disgusting scraping sound as it stuck on the frame. “And _this_ is why we don’t lock it,” Katya grunted. She wrapped her hands around the knob, forcibly tugging until Trixie could see veins popping in the muscles of her arms beneath the cut-off sleeves in her sweatshirt. The way her arms rippled when she forced the door wide open with her strength alone. Alaska and Adore let out cheers at Katya’s success, and the Russian pulled away, shaking the stiffness from her fingers. 

“Oh, wow,” Trixie said softly, her face less deadpanned than she hoped. 

Alaska cackled. “ _’Oh, wow’?_ I’ve never seen you look so turned on, and I’ve literally watched you practically fuck Ado-” 

“Okay, Alaska, that will be all! Dressing room is open, let’s-” Trixie made a wide sweeping gesture towards the doorway. The group filed in, one right after the other until they were settled at their usual spots. Trixie lifted herself onto the vanity with Adore and Katya, snuggling herself right between her two best friends. 

“Ru’s s’posed to come back today,” Katya said into the silence. She pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her sweatshirt pocket, offering one to Adore and then Alaska. 

Trixie batted at the smoke that was wafting towards her. “Where did he go again?” 

“Some cruise with Georges. Goes every single year and they fuck from here to the Caribbean...” Alaska drawled, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth. 

“Ugh,” Trixie took a sip of Adore’s iced coffee. “That’s more than I will ever need to know about them.” 

“They’re kinda cute though. Been together since like, ‘94, Bianca told me.” 

“What, the same year you and Trixie were born?” Katya asked, nudging Trixie’s thigh with her own. 

“We were born in ‘89, you fucking asshole.” Trixie laughed. “It’s not our fault you and Alaska are two-thousand years old.” 

“Hey! I was born in 1985!” Alaska pointed an accusing finger to Trixie. 

“1982-”

“You’re all fucking children and I wish none of you had been born,” Bianca rolled her eyes as she stepped into the dressing room, her clipboard in hand and her black hair slicked to perfection. “Where the hell is everyone? There’s five minutes until call time.” 

“Hung-the-fuck-over, probably,” Alaska said with a laugh. “I hear bar-hopping didn’t go over so well this weekend, they were celebrating Chi Chi and Aja’s move with Aja’s roommate,” he took a drag from his cigarette, “I’m not sure exactly what happened, but if I were Trixie I’d bring my own damn pillows with me.” 

“Thank you, Alaska, for giving us a lot more information than we ever needed to hear in the most uninformative way possible,” Bianca walked over to the lanky queen, swiped his cigarette, and stubbed it beneath her heel on the vinyl floor. “I told you no more smoking in here. Katya, put yours out, too.” 

“Eh, I was done anyway,” the Russian retorted lazily.

“Hey, baby,” Adore said finally, quietly, as everyone scattered to their respective vanities. Trixie could feel her vibrate at her side; if she was trying to play it cool, Adore was failing miserably. Her hope, nerves, and excitement were written all over her face, her eyes glued to Bianca as if her answer held Adore’s entire life. 

Bianca looked up from her clipboard, her attention zeroing in on Adore. For a moment, Trixie’s heart stopped for her friend. Time seemed to stretch on and on, but Trixie doubted it was more than a second before Bianca replied. 

“Good morning, Adore,” her voice was clear and steady, hinted at practically nothing, and Trixie was unsure of what to make of it. Then the moment was gone, and Bianca surveyed the rest of the cast. Some members were shuffling in hurriedly while others were getting organized. “I want you all in the house in two minutes. We’re running everything for Ru today.” 

And with that, she turned on her heels and left. 

It was when the door slammed behind her that Trixie felt Adore release a long-held breath, and it took even longer for her to finally say something. Trixie looked at her friend, who was left staring at Alaska’s miserable cigarette butt on the floor.

“What the fuck was that?”  


✘✘✘  


Everyone else filed in, two minutes to call time, and yes, most of them a little hungover. Violet was sporting _beautiful,_ red, glassy eyes. Chi Chi and Aja didn’t look too hot either, but at least they didn’t flinch at every waking sound like their counterpart. Kim had spent the weekend in and kept to herself, supposedly. Trixie preferred picturing Kim alone in her apartment, painting her nails and practicing makeup, leaving Ron out of the picture. Ginger drove to New York for a matinee with his boyfriend (Trixie was just now learning they lived together).  
Trixie couldn’t imagine the next few hours were going to be easy, especially with Violet’s constant whining and Katya’s inability to stop irritating her until she snapped (which Trixie absolutely loved, even though it very clearly grated every last one of Bianca’s nerves and, as she constantly reminded everyone, she barely had any to begin with).  
They were back on a regular schedule, everyone working through music, choreography, bits of improv. Most importantly, RuPaul had returned to his position as Master of Ceremonies, sending Bianca back to her position as stage manager.

While pleasant, the runs were a bit tedious as they got back into the swing of things. Trixie sat reclined in one of the bar chairs, her guitar resting on her thighs as she watched the rehearsal run into the ground. Violet was a mess, her head in her hands every time the music was played over the monitors. Ron kept missing a few cues, Bianca kept getting a little distracted, and Trixie more or less realized Ru kind of struggled doing… his entire job. 

_I guess a two-week vacation in the middle of the season didn’t do any good_.

It wasn’t something she’d ever really _noticed_ before. After all, announcing and coordinating transitions couldn’t have been that hard, right? Then again, she was usually distracted by Katya whenever Ru was on. Trixie’s previous assessments of him probably weren’t that fair. She could practically feel Bianca flinch from her seat in the back every time something went wrong, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. She was seething with frustration, and Trixie couldn’t blame her. There had to have been something infuriating about having to go back to a position that had clearly been two sizes too small for her. When Trixie really gave it some thought, the whole place must have been two sizes too small for Bianca Del Rio.

“Hey,” Two skinny arms looped their way around Trixie’s shoulders and pulled her right out of her train of thought. And judging by the strands of blue hair that came with them, Adore was looking for a bit of her attention. Trixie smiled sadly at the thought. There was now a shift to their dynamic, and she knew she could no longer offer Adore the same sort of love they’d grown used to sharing. She could feel the girl’s sadness, her confusion, but she couldn’t just reach out and touch her like she wanted to. She wasn’t sure exactly where Bianca and Adore stood at the moment, but she knew it didn’t matter; everything was different now, and Trixie felt a distinct emptiness was where their dynamic had shifted.

Her heart would have to readjust, reshape itself to fit its new surroundings, but something in Trixie wished they’d just had that one last time. It wasn’t a relationship by any means, not even close, but… even non-things needed closure, apparently. She wasn’t mad about it - how could she be? - just sort of aware of the pangs of something missing, dying out. But Trixie was used to the pain of things that arbitrarily get taken away from her; she guessed she’d manage this time, too.

She absentmindedly glanced out the window before acknowledging the girl’s presence. It was darker than usual for the time, and chilly; somehow, when she wasn’t paying attention, Christmas had drawn nearer. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in almost two months. There was a bitterness in her mouth.

“Hey, Dory,” Trixie said softly, leaning her head back to look up at her taller friend. “What’s up?” 

“Bored, everyone is doing something important.” Adore grumbled, resting her chin atop Trixie’s head.

“Well, what do you wanna do?” Trixie played along, her fingers tangling in a bit of blue hair that had settled over her shoulder. 

“Glad you asked,” Adore said coyly. “I wrote a part this song a couple nights ago and I need some help finishing it,” she began, taking a seat in the chair beside Trixie. “I think I’m gonna call it _Pretty Girls Cry_ and I have most of the melody worked out, just-” she pursed her lips. “None of the _actual_ music part.” 

“Okay…” Trixie contemplated. “Do you have what’s done written out, or?” 

“Oh, yeah! It’s-” Adore pulled out a few pieces of crumpled paper, marked up by pen with random words, x’s, a few sporadic drawings in the margins. It oozed Adore. Trixie’s eyes scanned the words, read and reread the messy scrawl until she got a feel for the mood of the song. 

“It’s about Bianca,” Trixie said. A statement, not a question. 

Adore stared at her, “how did you…?” her mouth hung open.

“Adore,” Trixie spoke slowly, her eyes trained on the girl, “bitch, they’re literally all about Bianca,” she deadpanned.

Adore burst out laughing - both girls did. Not that it was that funny, they both just really needed that moment.  
When they had run out of air, Trixie watched Adore curl in on herself a bit, let out a small breath and nod. “Yeah, I guess they are. You’re pretty clever, aren’t you?” 

“My gift for deciphering your riddles is matched by none,” Trixie bit on her lip, allowing herself to think for a moment or two. “Sing it for me?” 

Adore nodded and straightened herself out. She started on the song, slowly making her way across the melody, the words. The song dripped with every bit of Adore, every piece of slack, every drawn-out note, and riff. It was one of the best ones she’d heard her write as of yet.  
Trixie, on her part, took her time finding a melody. She made her own markings, her own notes on the page with a pen Adore stole from the bar. Her fingers flicked between guitar and page, marking chord, progressions, changing words and rhythms (with Adore’s careful approval, of course).  
As they progressed, a little light seemed to spark in Adore. She was becoming more and more excited. She mumbled about how incredible the piece would sound in the studio, even told Trixie they needed to record it together, a comment Trixie only brushed off. 

“What’re you two up to?” For the first time in a long time, Bianca walked up to the two of them. She spoke directly, softly, and something in her face left a calming feeling in Trixie’s chest. She had approached them with carefulness, the way you would approach a small, hurt animal you didn’t want to frighten.

“Working on a song Adore wrote,” Trixie answered. 

Adore didn’t speak up, just nodded in agreement as she sucked in her breath. Bianca meant so much to her. 

“Can I hear it?” Bianca asked finally, taking a seat across from both girls, leaning her head on her hand, her brown eyes trying to meet Adore’s. 

“It’s not done-” Adore began to explain. 

“It’s _basically_ done.” Trixie corrected. “We were just finishing the last refrain.” 

Adore looked momentarily hesitant before she relented beneath both Trixie’s and Bianca’s gaze, “yeah, okay.”

“When you’re ready,” Bianca gave a vague gesture at both girls. Trixie looked at Adore, Adore at Trixie and with a silent confirmation, Trixie began to play. A few short patterns and Trixie nodded out Adore’s entrance. 

_“Road trip and I lost my crown, to get away from this crazy town, she never seemed to look my way, my lover stays with her poker face,_

Adore’s voice was quiet, rough and heavy with pain. Trixie looked up at her, searched for her gaze, but Adore had her eyes closed, not daring to look at Bianca, seemingly lost in a world of her own.

_You know how they say I only have eyes for you, well you better be looking back at me babe, said you better be looking back at me babe..._

Trixie couldn’t place Bianca’s expression, the way her eyes followed every minute movement of Adore’s body, drinking in the blue-haired girl’s accusations, her utter exhaustion. It brought out the best of Adore, undoubtedly; suddenly she was older than her years, like a glimpse into a future yet untouched. Trixie wanted so much to be a part of it, and she could see the same want reflected in Bianca’s eyes, tenfold. She felt privy to a very intimate kind of torture that she had unwittingly inserted herself into. .

_You know how they say I only have eyes for you, well you better be looking back at me babe, said you better be looking back at me babe…_

Trixie played through the transition and dropped her eyes to the neck of her guitar. She was playing the song and felt _beyond_ intrusive, yet… she somehow belonged at that moment. She was a part of their story now, whether she wanted to or not. She had cultivated that pain, nurtured it in the night when Bianca wasn’t there. She kissed it better and made it worse. She knew it so well already, and it knew her; indeed, it was like an old friend to Trixie, and now she was passing it on to Bianca. 

Everything was coming into light as Adore’s voice stretched on and broke.

_“A couple shows right up the street, by the shops where we used to meet. Smell your perfume when you walk away. It’s like you’re with me I can hear you say…”_

_“Girl, my love for you will never die, even if I don't look you in the eye. Please stay, never die, never die...”_

Adore’s face hardened a little and Trixie could see her fingers clenching and unclenching the fabric of her shirt, her brows knitted in concentration. Bianca looked about ready to take Adore’s hand in hers, but stayed put, when suddenly Adore’s green eyes opened to look right into Bianca in defiance, almost.

_You know how they say I only have eyes for you, well you better be looking back at me babe, said you better be looking back at me babe. You know how they say I only have eyes for you, well you better be looking back at me babe, said you better be looking back at me babe…_

_And now I'm crying, cause you been trying, I said I'm crying, yeah..._

Trixie had to admit, the very ending was her favorite part of the song. Adore riffed like a motherfucker, and Trixie could feel every bit, every note in her soul. Adore’s eyes were lowered again, her long lashes covering the dazzling green Trixie used to drown in during those long, miserable nights. It was a broken sort of howl, a tearless wail that broke Trixie’s heart. It was a wordless song she’d practically known by heart already, put into music and presented prettily to the world. Trixie looked back up at Bianca, feeling the tension thick in the air between the three of them. 

But Bianca looked so _moved_ , so _gentle_. She was hugging herself absentmindedly, eyes glued to Adore, her entire heart showing. Trixie was grateful for the relative privacy of that moment, with everyone so busy. They’d been wrong the first time; Adore had been wrong. There was no room to put all of that on display. But this time, were no tears; Bianca’s face remained dry and still, her eyes sober and reddened, locked in an expression of utter love and adoration. Trixie suddenly realized how truly alone Bianca must’ve felt. She had never seen her look so beautiful. 

Trixie could've sworn Adore’s breaths were a little shaky, strained like her last few lines took everything she had. 

_You know how they say I only have eyes for you, well you better be looking back at me babe, said you better be looking back at me babe…”_

Trixie removed her hands from the guitar, flexing her fingers after misjudging how much force she put into her playing. 

Very slowly, Bianca moved towards Adore; taking her hand, first, and rubbing circles across the girl’s palm. Trixie truly didn’t know which one of them was more terrified at the aftermath of that song. They were like beginners, or worse even - two people who’d gone so far without each other they’ve grown rusty. It wasn’t their first step towards one another, just their first one sober, and neither was any good at sober. Bianca’s gentle caresses moved up Adore’s arm, and Adore seemed so, so grateful, as if she was thawing at her love’s touch. Finally, Adore leaned her beautiful head against Bianca’s shoulder, and Bianca let out a long-held breath, her eyes closing.

For once, there was no drama. The hurricane had stilled and died down, its sole survivors finding comfort in each other.

_Beshert_ , Brianna had said. Trixie understood.

“I love you,” Adore whispered into the silence, her face hidden in the crook of Bianca’s neck. 

“I know,” Bianca said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Adore’s head. “I know, baby.”

Trixie smiled sadly, her fingers pressed to her mouth to suppress any noise she might make. She felt peaceful, as if something constant had been restored; but for her, another small piece had been taken away. She loved Adore to pieces and she wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. Adore would want the same thing for her, wouldn’t she? 

Trixie realized too late that you couldn’t really know Adore without falling a little bit in love with her. 

Their gentle moment was interrupted by the piercing sound of Adore’s cell phone. Adore lifted her head out from Bianca’s embrace to fish her phone from her pocket. Her eyes widened at the sight of her phone and she looked between Bianca and Trixie briefly. 

“It’s uh, it’s my guy in Cali- I’m so sorry, I gotta take this, I-” Bianca made a go ahead gesture and no sooner did Adore click to answer her phone. 

“This is Adore,” 

Bianca’s gaze found Trixie’s and for a moment, Trixie had the sudden urge to shrink up. But Bianca’s gaze remained calm, sweet. She gave Trixie a grateful smile. 

“Thanks for watching over her,” Bianca said finally. “I know… I know she needed you these past few weeks.” Bianca was speaking softly, her nails rapping on the bar table. 

“I needed her.” Trixie replied sheepishly. 

“I know, kiddo, I-” 

“Hold on, fuck, Sony wants me to sign a _fucking what_?!” Adore’s voice has transcended a fucking dog-whistle. “They loved the demo _that_ much?” Adore turned to Trixie and Bianca, entirely flabbergasted. Eyes wide, jaw dropped. The trio was left in silence, Adore leaning into the phone as if she could barely hear it. Trixie gaped, looking from Adore to Bianca, who had a similar expression. “Yeah, oh my God, yes! I’m so fucking excited! I’ll leave Boston as soon as I can, yeah. Yes, oh my God, thank you. Thank you, thank you!” Adore was left staring at her phone, a hand over her mouth. 

“Willow,” Bianca began carefully. “Baby, what’s going on?” 

“Sony wants- _fucking Sony_ wants a fucking contract with me, you guys, they-” 

Trixie removed her guitar and set it against the table. As she went up to hug Adore, Bianca beat her to it. She practically lifted the taller blunette in her arms, pressing awkward, messy kisses to her face. 

“Adore, Adore, Adore, baby, I’m so proud of you!” Bianca mumbled, her red lipstick smudging on Adore’s forehead. 

“Adore, this is incredible!” Trixie said finally, her fingers brushing against Adore’s shoulder until she was tugged into the embrace as well. Both Bianca and Adore wrapped their arms around her and the three held onto each other in their mirth. “Wait,” Trixie blurted out eventually, “so now what? What do we have to do?” 

Adore seemed to hesitate, but her smile never seemed to fade. “They want… they want me back in California before New Years.” she said at last, the group separating as she spoke. “They need me to go sign a contract and then, I guess, I mean, I guess we start making plans and writing more music and hopefully start touring or something.” 

Trixie felt like she was being tugged a thousand different ways. Her heart fell at the idea of Adore leaving. Her stomach felt sick and tight, yet her heart couldn’t help but feel so full for Adore as well. Adore, with her bright eyes and wide, unbelieving smile, and _God_ Trixie had the smallest urge to just kiss her stupid, happy face. 

But Bianca did it for her. 

Bianca kissed Adore, and the whole world seemed to stop. It was a long, deep, meaningful kiss, and Trixie had to step back. Bianca’s hands were on Adore’s face, her neck, in her hair; she was kissing Adore as if it would be their last kiss as if she would never kiss anyone ever again.

Trixie couldn’t help but know in her heart that they’d just survived a hurricane.

But she also remembered that after the hurricane subsided, there would be a tsunami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost 20 chapters you guys! Incredible! Thank you so much for reading!!!!   
> Anna: [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Oro: [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)


	19. A Bubblegum Bubble, Right Before It Pops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah? She’s somethin’-” Trixie attempted another laugh.
> 
> “You know what I’m talking about, though, right?” Brianna continued, her eyes again focused on Trixie’s. 
> 
> Trixie thought about it. She may not have had Brianna’s… _unique_ perspective and her skin may or may not have crawled at the sheer intimacy she was being subjected to, but if there was one matter on which she had quite a few thoughts, it was the subject at hand. “That’s just what makes Katya _Katya_. The way you can feel her laughter and see her whole face light up when she smiles,” Trixie started slowly, biting her lip at the thought, a warmth beginning to erupt in her chest, chasing away the eeriness, replacing it with a blooming sense of certainty.. “The way you can look in her eyes and just see them twinkle with whatever’s crossing her mind. A joke, a thought, an idea. She’s so readable, but only if you understand her language. I have never met anyone who is like that and - I know there will never be another.” She turned to Brianna. “Sometimes she’s overwhelming, but it's part of the experience, it’s why you fall in love with her, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Bonjour, Hola, היוש, & Приве́т  
> Holy fucking shit, what is it? Three months to-date?? Just as any author, y'all know I'm about to apologize for how long it took us to update. I sort of took an impromptu mental health hiatus in which Oro appointed herself my loving nurse. I'm sorry for leaving everyone hanging - and to address the Asks, no HITM is most definitely not dead. She needed a nice charcoal mask and self-love.  
>  **Recap:** Katya  & Bri are planning on going to New York, Biadore is together after Adore poured her soul into a song and in a much better place (sry Trixiadore stans:|), and Adore will be leaving for California - also! It's almost the holidays! 
> 
> I hope everyone is having a great holiday season! I wanna thank each and every one of you for being so bloody fucking patient. I miss being harassed, though, so if you're feeling fun and frisky hit up Oro and me on Tumblr.  
> Anna: [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Oro: [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ALSO. Remember that kiss Trixie has with Ron in Chapter 8? That's briefly mentioned as well as some of Trixie's feelings on the matter! Just a fair warning, she talks about feeling ashamed and being unable to report it due to her situation. Stay safe out there, kids. <3

Winter in Boston was just as bad as winter in Wisconsin, except Boston lacked the abundance of trees covered in shimmering ice and snow. It lacked the makeshift ice-skating ponds created from some hose water and negative temperatures. It lacked the hard bite of Milwaukee cold that clung to your body and filled your bones with an icy core.  
Trixie thought Boston had a mild, pretty winter. Sure, she had slipped on three or four ice patches already - once on the sidewalk in front Esmerelda when she grabbed lunch with Katya, a week or so prior (Tammie had a cow when her _Trixie Pixie_ hit the ground). Katya about popped a blood vessel at the sight.  
Unlike the country, Boston didn’t slow down in the winter months. In Wisconsin, Trixie felt everything, everyone around her take it easier. The snow, it relaxed people, lives became seemingly cozy and soft; it was a pleasant time for Trixie, often cut off from the world by heavy cold, reading lengthy books by a fireplace and, as she grew into her teens, having even lengthier phone conversations with Shea until her step dad would get mad at her; she remembered picking at stiff guitar strings with cold, bruised fingers, the crackling fire giving the music an old record sort of feel. Those memories tasted of countless cups of hot chocolate, tinged with a bitter aftertaste. She tried not to let it linger on.  
Boston was different. Trixie was near exhausted by her workload, the string of holiday performances they had to prepare for, and then their last big show before everyone was off for their respective celebrations; it may not have been quiet or peaceful, but it wasn’t filled an underlying feeling of constant dread, either. It was exhilarating and fun, and Trixie was over the moon with her lot.

Trixie’s celebration would probably mean sitting at home with some Chinese food and her new roommate, Farrah, a native Texan who had lived in Boston for the past two years and could never get used to the cold. This had become their routine often enough, and Trixie was comfortable with it. At the moment, Farrah was sitting on the sofa, curled up in her ridiculous fuzzy pink robe and a pile of blankets (also colored in various shades of pink), whining at the apparently offensive cold weather.

“It’s really not that cold.” Trixie had said with half a laugh. “Back home, we’d drop into the negatives. It’s like thirty degrees out, Far.” 

Farrah made another indignant sound and buried her nose beneath all that fleece. 

Yes, finally, after weeks of busyness and emotional turmoil, Trixie moved into a small, two bedroom home in the second floor of a Boston townhouse, fully equipped with a white Persian cat named Ruby and their roommate, Farrah Moan. It was quaint, much quieter than the hotel, and _incredibly_ fucking pink. 

“Sorry I didn’t grow up in the North Pole!” she said pathetically. Farrah stuck her fingers out from under the covers, wiggling them at her small kitten who was stalking silently across the wooden floorboards. “C’mere beebee!” she called. The kitten spared Farrah a stiff look before sauntering towards Trixie, who was sat sideways in their arm chair. Trixie made a clicking sound with her mouth and Ruby hopped up onto her belly. 

Farrah made a sound near a shriek and burrowed herself even further. “I wanted her to keep me _warm!_ ”

“You’re pitiful.” Trixie said with a laugh, her fingers scratching the back of Ruby’s soft neck. The cat purred pleasantly under Trixie’s touch. “It’s sad, really.” Trixie cooed to the cat. “Huh, Ruby? She’s so pitiful.” 

Ruby chirped softly in response before settling on the fleshiest and fattest part of her new roommate’s belly.

Farrah sat up in a huff, tossing the mound of blankets in the floor. Her hair was wild, a static mess with pieces sticking up in ways Trixie had yet to see. The cat startled at the sudden movement. “Trixie.” she said softly. “Will you please make me hot chocolate?” 

Trixie laughed a little, shaking her head as she stared at Ruby’s comfortable face. 

Farrah continued. “Pretty please? I really want one - there’s some left, right?” 

Trixie really didn’t mind making it. In fact, the idea of hot chocolate sounded absolutely wonderful, even if she wasn’t particularly cold. But still, she’d found teasing Farrah was a newfound hobby she loved to partake in. Maybe even more so than the chocolate. 

“Mm.”

“I’ll let you borrow my silver heels?” Farrah challenged, “the ones with the pink buckle-” 

“How much whipped cream you want?” Trixie asked, gently taking Ruby and setting her on the hardwood floor. 

“Like the whole goddamn can.” Farrah shrugged. 

“Well, I finished it off last night.” Trixie skipped into the kitchen, suppressing an almighty grin as Farrah whined louder than Trixie had ever heard.

Farrah was a woman after Trixie’s own heart. She was a gorgeous blonde with makeup done to perfection; she was what Trixie had hoped she looked like, a thought she realized lacked any basis in reality, so she wasn’t, like, overly mad about it. Farrah was funny and cute and probably the first straight individual Trixie’s met since coming to Boston (Ron doesn’t count. At all. For anything). Trixie took comfort in Farrah’s heterosexuality; Farrah never questioned Trixie on her own, not once. 

It was refreshing to have her around. 

Most of their interactions had been limited to hellos and goodbyes, sitting exhausted on the sofa before turning in for the evening, offers of the other’s leftovers and such. Trixie spent all of her time at the club and Farrah had classes and her shift at one of the local makeup stores. Trixie couldn’t wait to actually find time to get to know her. And despite today being Trixie’s Sunday off, getting to know Farrah was going to have to wait. 

Brianna invited her to go Christmas shopping. Just them two. 

It warmed Trixie’s heart, knowing Brianna wanted her input on a gift for Katya - well, eight gifts for Katya, to be precise - she actually called it Hanukkah shopping, but Trixie wasn’t about to get all _technical_ about it.

They decided to go to a chic little art district Trixie’s never been to but Katya couldn’t shut up about, filled with odd stores and vendors stretched down a few blocks somewhere deeper into the city, far from the club. When Brianna brought up the topic of holiday presents, Trixie couldn’t shake the feeling that it was perfect place to find things for Katya.  
She pulled into an angled parking space, taking care to squish that big truck between two small cars. She climbed out of the car, careful to avoid the bits of slush as they walked along the dirty sidewalk. Brianna, after sending off another text to Katya (apparently, those two actually never do stop), wrapped her arm in Trixie’s.  
Trixie kinda liked being alone with Brianna. She liked the style, the vibe that the two of them gave off. Coordinated in blondes, whites and pinks. Trixie in high-waisted, light-wash jeans, a gingham shirt, tied just above her waistline, and her pink coat, gloves, a and a hat to keep warm. Brianna wore jeans as well, white ones that she paired with a tight pink blouse and high black boots. Even swallowed in a professional outer coat and a scarf wrapped about the lower half of her face, Brianna looked adorable. Her nose and cheeks were bright red in the winter sun. Two peas in a pod - there was something too comforting about that. 

“Thanks for bringing me. And just helping with the whole Katya gift thing. I know her, I love her, but God is she hard to shop for.” 

Trixie laughed softly. “S’okay. I have no idea what I’m getting her, either. We can figure it out together.” They stepped in time, into the abrasive cold and wind. The strip was less colorful than Trixie imagined, the sidewalk murky and wet. From the outside, the place didn’t look very Katya-esque. “So, you going home for the holidays?” 

She shook her head. “No, I really don’t have the time. I wanted to take Katya home to meet my mom and siblings, but,” Brianna shrugged. “I can’t afford it, right now. You? Wisconsin?” 

“Still haven’t spoken to my family. So, no.” Trixie said shortly, hoping to conclude the topic. “I _did_ send my sister and brother gifts, though.” 

“Younger or older siblings?” 

“Both. Dan’s twenty-four, Sam’s gonna be ten.” Trixie smiled fondly. “Got him a Sox hat and a gift card.” Trixie shrugged. “I got Sam a Barbie Styling Head, though. She’ll either love it or say she’s way too old for that crap.” 

“That was really sweet of you.” Brianna said thoughtfully. “It’s nice you still have them at home, you know? I don’t know what I’d do without my mom and sister.” 

“Yeah.” Trixie smiled at the thought of her siblings. Sam was probably gearing up for all their church group activities, the Christmas parties at school, her mom taking her to buy a cutely festive dress for the family dinner. A pang of longing breached her chest for a moment. She looked to Brianna. “Are you out to them?” she asked. 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Brianna said. “Since like, high school. It was sorta hard to keep hidden, I was being painfully obvious about it thinking I had it all undercover. But everyone knew, Trixie, they just…” she trailed off, her expression darkening momentarily, and Trixie remembered what Brianna once told her about her dad; she noticed he wasn’t mentioned, but didn’t ask. “Anyway, they know all about my hot, Russian, gymnast girlfriend. They’ve seen pictures of Katya, even. My mom thinks she’s absolutely beautiful,” Bri added, keeping her tone light.

“Wait, wait,” Trixie held up a hand. “What do you mean _everyone_ knew?” she lifted her brows at Brianna, her mind swirling with memories of Wisconsin, the absolute positivity behind the rumors that haunted her. 

Brianna shrugged, “I mean, who were they going to think is the gay one if not the girl in the corner reading Adrienne Fucking Rich, y’know? Writing poetry, reading up on gender studies… looking at that one girl,” she sighed.

“Yeah, but -” Trixie stopped, not finding her footing in the swirl of all this new information. Brianna’s expression softened as she met hers. Almost against her will, Trixie’s mind drifted to a blonde teenager in gingham with an acoustic guitar, singing Indigo Girls songs. It’s almost like… almost like…

“It was literally as if people had no other word to describe what they were seeing but ‘dyke’, y’know?” Brianna offered. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” Trixie said, an unsettling and unexplainable feeling taking over her chest. It was like her mind couldn’t make sense of all the information she was given, lest for one thing: “Oh my God, it’s -” Trixie smacked her forehead with her hand. “I fucking did it to myself!” 

Brianna gave Trixie a quizzical look. “Sorry?” 

“Everyone was calling it like they saw it, Brianna. I was such an _unbelievable_ fucking-” Trixie stopped for a moment and shook her head. “I’m- It makes sense - _you_ make sense, Brianna. They called you a lesbian, a dy - a lesbian - because you - you -”

“Trixie.” Brianna wrapped her delicate fingers around Trixie’s wrist. Her expression was sympathetic, gentle in a way. Trixie felt disarmed. She let Brianna’s other hand rest on her waist and squeeze as if she was keeping Trixie on her feet. “Trixie, that doesn’t mean I _deserved_ it,” her expression became serious as her eyes bore into Trixie’s.

Trixie blinked a few times as if she was trying to clear dust from her vision. But the thoughts kept swirling, an overwhelming mix of confusing realizations and missed truths about herself. “Brianna, you don’t-”

A small part of her began to calm down, but the thoughts, the feelings stayed riled, at bay and waiting to be fully, and totally realized. 

“Trixie, we don’t _ask_ for it,” she heard Brianna’s voice but it took her a moment to decipher the meaning of her words. “Everything that happened to you, you didn’t deserve - and, hey,” she chuckled, her eyes finding Trixie’s in the haze of - whatever the hell that was. “even if you were Ellen Degeneres having sex with Portia De Rossi on your neighbors’ lawn wrapped in a white tablecloth after labor day, you still didn’t deserve it, okay?”

She was overwhelmed, but present enough to grasp Brianna’s words as they were spoken. She was nodding before she registered it. “Okay,” she said finally. “Okay.” 

It felt like too much information, even Brianna’s bits. Trixie didn’t know where or when or how she would sort this out - but it nagged. It was a box begging to be opened and released. It rumbled and shook almost as if it had been there all along. Finally, too impatient, finally ready for _something_. 

She didn’t know if she believed Brianna - if she believed that she didn’t deserve the hell she’d gotten for so many years - but at least she knew there was a reason to it. It felt like Trixie wasn’t in the dark anymore, there was a little light now, guiding her to where she needed to go, but she was still very much on the fence about following its lead. 

Brianna planted her hands firmly on Trixie’s forearms, as if she was still trying to have that lasting, calming effect on Trixie. “Listen, I was thinking of hitting this one hippie store. It’s not usually my thing, but I guess today I’m in the market for some incense, drug-rugs, and those like… little healing crystal bracelet things? Oh, and bongs for… ‘tobacco’.” Brianna wiggled her brows and emphasized her point with air-quotes. Trixie managed a short, sort-of laugh. “I know Katya loves the place and it’s a good start.” 

“You’re gonna find all eight in there-” Trixie replied. 

“I know!” Brianna gleamed. “It’s just down the block, let’s go!” 

Trixie was slow, at first. She felt it weighing in her bones, coursing through her blood to where her heart was working overtime. But with each step, Brianna and her infectious laugh just seemed to take some anxiety off of Trixie, until only a bitter aftertaste remained on the tip of her tongue. The girls found themselves perusing that very store, monikered _Grasshopper_.

Trixie suddenly realized why the place was beloved by her best friend. 

A smokey, suffocating scent in a building that was high like a warehouse, yet in two, narrow rooms. Trixie’s boots clicked across the scuffed wooden floor as she was lost in a maze of tie-dye and warmth. She already felt the nagging urge to remove her coat, collapse in the bin of bean bags at the back. Brianna removed her scarf and gloves to stuff them away. Trixie followed suit. The only employee in the place, a tall white girl with a beanie tucked over some dreads waved to them in a rather enthusiastic manner, offering her help in case they needed it. 

Brianna started over at the clothes, sorting through the tie-dyed cotton shirts, skirts, sweaters, etc. Trixie moseyed over to their rather large selection of incense, checking on Brianna periodically. 

“Hey!” Brianna held up an ugly white skirt. It was floor-length, wide enough to get around _maybe_ one of Trixie’s thighs, and covered distastefully in beads and sequins. Trixie thought the amalgamation was supposed to be… flowers? Maybe? She couldn’t quite tell. “How about this?” 

Trixie stifled a laugh. “I mean, it’s just…” Trixie was at a loss for words. Brianna looked so ridiculous, her own body so short next to that crocheted monstrosity that it seemed like the skirt should be wearing _her_. “Bri, this is the ugliest fucking skirt these eyes have ever seen,” she burst out laughing.

“It’s lovely and on budget, stop it!” Bri’s indignant reply ended with a sad whine that Trixie now associated with her new home.

“Aww,” Trixie wiped the tears that were now streaming down her face, “no, I’m sorry, I veto this shit unless they pay us good money to take it off their hands and burn it.”

“Ugh, fine,” Brianna rolled her eyes, thankfully backing away from the rack.

Trixie shook her head and ran her fingers over one of the displays, until her eye caught something, hidden away on one of the taller shelves. Brianna would never be able to reach it. Trixie picked it up; it was a small box coated in navy blue fabric, embossed with an ornate illustration of stars and a moon in gold foil. The overall effect was stunning, and Trixie had hoped the content of the package would prove just as good. She opened the box to discover a neat stack of cards, all illustrated in the same etching style, with bits of gold foil incorporated into the illustrations, as well as a matching booklet. Trixie sighed as she ran her fingers over the shiny material.

“Hey,” Trixie said softly. “What about a deck of tarot cards?” Trixie turned to face Brianna, holding the box in her hands. “They have a little beginners’ book, too.” 

Brianna crossed the floor, her facing curiously bright. “Oh, God, she loves this kind of stuff!” 

“I don’t see anything even remotely similar around here.” Trixie said. “Is it… in the cards, then?” 

Brianna screeched. “Oh my God, are you actually _channeling_ Katya right now? This is some ooky spooky shit!” She laughed, stepping over to Trixie and picking up the booklet. “Oh, this is beautiful, and it’s definitely her, that’s our girl right there. Why don’t you get it for her? You’re the one who found it.” 

“It is perfect,” Trixie admitted. “But coming here was your idea, so you get first dibs on everything.” 

“First dibs on everything, huh? I like that,” Brianna smiled and licked her lips in an exaggerated greedy gesture and grabbed the box. “Gimme it!”

Trixie laughed. “Okay, that takes care of at least one of your presents. You’re supposed to buy like a million, yeah?”

“Seven little ones, and one big one.” Brianna offered. “Eight, in total. Cute, right?” 

Trixie hummed in agreement. 

“Ugh, Trixie” Brianna gushed, “this _is_ perfect. Thank you so much.”

Despite Trixie’s quick grab of the cards, finding other things for Katya was proving to be difficult. Katya had a vibe, a certain sense that could only be attached to her. How do you replicate that in material things? After about forty-five minutes, Brianna left the store with the tarot box set, almond oil (“I’ve been wanting to try Ayurveda in forever!” “What’s that?” “It’s a massage technique from India, you rub your partner’s entire body with heated almond oil… Katya says it doesn’t matter where you touch her during Ayurveda, the feeling goes straight to her c--” “Okay, this is possibly _a lot_ more information than I’m comfortable knowing,”) and a silver pendant depicting two hands holding the Illuminati symbol.

Trixie, on the other hand, was left empty-handed. 

Stopping only for a well-needed cup of warm apple cider, the pair hit four-five more stores, their time in each becoming increasingly longer. Brianna had found a pair of sheer tights, embroidered with an offensively ugly array of misshapen Catholic saints (“dear God, please forgive me for this one”), an old print depicting an anatomical illustration of two healthy lungs (“I like to surround myself with impossible ambitions”), and film for Katya’s Polaroid (Trixie bought some for Kim as well). Brianna had two gifts left. One big one, and the last little one, and she was quite pleased with herself  
Other than the film for Kim, and a smattering of small gifts for a few others. Trixie had… well, nothing for Katya. Time was ticking by and she was starting to get nervous. 

“I thought of something.” Trixie began between sips. “Keep checking the $5 second hand vendors if you wanna get Kat some clothes. That’s the shit no one wants, so you should find some trash dress for Katya.” she waved her hand around. “Like ugly patterns, you know, old-lady blouses-” 

“Oh _definitely_. I can’t wait for her to destroy yet another outfit I’ve picked out for her,” Brianna sighed. 

“She destroys them??” Trixie asked incredulously, “what?” 

“Oh, don’t pretend you haven’t seen the cigarette holes--”

“And those _fucking_ sweat stains, mama,” Trixie began to laugh. “Oh, Katya-” 

“Her clothes drive me nuts. It’s a good thing we’re always naked, so...” as Brianna was describing the couple’s morning routine in far too much detail, her phone dinged from her pocket. She pulled it out and smiled. 

“Speak of the devil.” she said fondly. “Wants to know how the shopping is going.” Brianna pursed her lips. “I usually send her photos of my haul-” 

“You can’t do that.” Trixie thought for a moment. “Send her a picture of us.” 

“Oh!” Brianna quickly swiped open her phone and turned on her front-facing camera (Jesus, Trixie needed to ditch her flip-phone). Trixie leaned into Brianna’s face, smiling brightly, coffee in the frame with her. Brianna turned her head and placed one big pink-lipped kiss on Trixie’s cheek before snapping the photo. 

“I’m gonna caption it: ‘Bought you a life-sized Barbie doll!’” Brianna laughed at her own joke and typed out the message. Trixie smiled softly. 

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” Trixie said once they resumed walking

“Yeah.” Brianna fiddled with her shopping bag. “I love Katya, but it’s nice to do things outside of her.” 

“Oh, not for me - usually, anyway,” Trixie replied, surveying another shop as they passed by. “But it’s nice to spend time together, just you and me, no distractions.”

“And yet we spent the entire time thinking about her! Ugh, look at us, this is pathetic. I just love her a lot. I love her so much.” Brianna sighed.

“Is that because she’s a fucking moron?” Trixie laughed, her hand reaching her own phone in her pocket, hoping it might ding, alert her of a message from Katya as well. She brought them to a bench in a little piazza between stores. The sun was going down, the temperature dropping steadily - however, Trixie prioritized her aching feet more than anything else. She grabbed a bottle of mineral water and began drinking.

Brianna sat down beside her, resting her bags on the brick pavement. laughed. “Yeah, a fucking moron. But like, a fucking amazing moron I have incredible sex with, you know?”

Trixie sputtered violently, the noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough. “No, nope, I actually don’t know,” Trixie tried to laugh despite a hollow feeling that began to creep in her stomach. “Can’t say I share that particular Katya experience.”

“She’s a very intense person, you know?” Bri droned on as if nothing had happened, lost in thought, “and I am too. But Katya is,” Brianna laughed. “She’s off the walls. Like, she is the full package, hot as all hell and as proficient in quoting Chekov as she is in quoting fucking Contact, and mama, find yourself a girl who can do both because that does not come by often.”

“Yeah? She’s somethin’-” Trixie attempted another laugh.

“You know what I’m talking about, though, right?” Brianna continued, her eyes again focused on Trixie’s. 

Trixie thought about it. She may not have had Brianna’s… _unique_ perspective, and her skin may or may not have crawled at the sheer intimacy she was being subjected to, but if there was one matter on which she had quite a few thoughts, it was the subject at hand. “That’s just what makes Katya _Katya_. The way you can feel her laughter and see her whole face light up when she smiles,” Trixie started slowly, biting her lip at the thought, a warmth beginning to erupt in her chest, chasing away the eeriness, replacing it with a blooming sense of certainty.. “The way you can look in her eyes and just see them twinkle with whatever’s crossing her mind. A joke, a thought, an idea. She’s so readable, but only if you understand her language. I have never met anyone who is like that and - I know there will never be another.” She turned to Brianna. “Sometimes she’s overwhelming, but it's part of the experience, it’s why you fall in love with her, right?”

Brianna seemed taken aback at this, her eyes no longer dreamy, her entire body language suddenly alert. It was a small difference in the small woman’s demeanor, but Trixie could tell there was something on her mind, something churning the cogs under all that blonde - but she couldn’t place what she had done wrong. 

Brianna’s brows creased and she hesitated before agreeing with Trixie. “Yeah, no, yeah, totally.” she broke their gaze, turned away from Trixie to look out at the passing cars, wandering pedestrians. 

“Sorry, was… that too much?” Trixie cringed. 

“No, of course not.” Brianna said sharply. “No. I have just never had a connection - I’ve never seen a connection like the one you have with her.” 

Trixie followed Brianna’s gaze, considered her words, and then spoke. “Katya is-” she paused. 

“What?” Brianna pressed. “She’s what?” 

“She’s my person, I guess.” Trixie looked up, connected her eyes with Brianna’s and suddenly… suddenly Trixie understood everything. The small light that had flickered within her earlier that day was much brighter, and the path had been illuminated as if Trixie’s entire brain was decorated with fairy lights.

For the first time ever, Trixie realized what everyone was seeing. She was on the same exact level as Brianna.

And it was so good and so _fucking_ bad in every single way. 

Trixie brought her eyes back to her lap and stared at her hands. She felt like she had just confessed a mortal sin.

“And she’s yours too… ya know?” Trixie added breathlessly. “Katya is special like that. She makes you feel like you’re the only person that matters at that exact moment.” 

Brianna licked her lips, forcing a smile. “She does. She makes me feel like I’m her entire world - her sun and the moon, it’s incredible. I’m not going to disappoint her - I’ll be her sun and her moon for a long time,” her words were punctured with laughter but Trixie felt the knife anyway. “She’s the person I want a life with. Katya and I make each other happy.” 

“I know,” Trixie swallowed. “I can see it. Bri, everybody can. It’s beshert, remember?”

“It is!” Brianna’s smile was now genuine, appreciative that Trixie learned a word for her. “I was thinking we could hit the bookstore,” she said as she stood. “We can get her a limited-edition copy of the _Communist Manifesto_ and grab dinner.” Trixie sensed the surge underneath Brianna’s calmness, but nevertheless, she took the blonde’s hand and followed her along the block. 

As they perused the street, Trixie thought of the one shabby mom & pop bookshop back in Wisconsin. It was one of her favorite places to go, particularly alone. Pearl was never the bookish type, bless her heart, and while Trixie wasn’t either, the quiet calmed her. People couldn’t very well talk behind her back if they were attached to the silence of reading. Sometimes Shea would join her. They’d haul up in a chair at the back and read together, or read quietly to one another.

Trixie’s phone vibrated from her coat pocket. 

**Katya**  
5:47pm  
_stop trying to steal my woman ;)))_  
_not vert str8 of u trixie myrtle_

Trixie couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the message, causing several shushes from people around her. Brianna was a few shelves away, her nose buried in a book Trixie couldn’t see the cover of. 

**Trixie**  
5:49pm  
_r u jealous katya ?_  
_guess that means ur missing out_

She felt so warm inside. Trixie smiled at her phone, spared a moment to think about what it’d be like to read with Katya. To Katya. She stepped down one of the aisles, inexplicably drawn to the spines of the books labeled under ‘poetry’. She even grabbed one off the shelf and perused some of the works. She flipped one open. 

After a minute or so and no reply from Katya, Trixie put the book back and walked over to Brianna. “Find anything?” 

“I… think so.” she said contemplatively. “I found a new gender studies anthology. It’s supposed to be a bunch of pieces assessing queer theory, how we define it, how it informs our activism.” Brianna ran her finger down the page, speaking listlessly. “It also addresses, like, the conflict between postmodernism and identity, the linchpin for political organization - and, you know-”

“No, Bri.” Trixie shook her head. “I really, really don’t.” 

Brianna paused, as if surprised by Trixie’s words, and then she started to grin, broad. 

“Oh - right. Yeah. Katya will like it too, we’re always-” 

“It’s your dirty talk.” Trixie teased. “It’s your intellectual lesbian thing, I get it.” 

“Intellectual and queer.” Brianna laughed, flipping the book closed. “Two things you are not,” she raised an eyebrow playfully.

Trixie drew back, her mouth agape as she assessed the seriousness of Brianna’s words. “ _Excuse_ you?” 

“You know I’m kidding.” she retorted with an eye roll. “About half of it, anyway.” 

Trixie snorted out a laugh. “Buy your fucking book and let’s get the hell out of here.” 

“Cool,” Brianna found a place in the short line before the register, her fingers flicking out a text. Trixie saw Katya’s name at the top. “Dinner? I’m starving.”

“Uh, sounds good. _Esmerelda_? I need my weekly dose of Tammie.” Trixie laughed a little.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. I went there with Katya twice last week.” Brianna shook her head and laughed distractedly.

“She took me twice last week, too!” Trixie nearly shouted. “I swear to God, we drove _all_ way out there and were late to call time. Bianca about chased us around the house!” Trixie laughed at the memory. The woman at the register shushed them both heartily, her face was red, little pieces of gray hair falling from her bun. Trixie could sense her tiredness from feet away. 

While Brianna interacted with the elderly cashier (who was seemingly calmer now that she saw they were spending money), Trixie checked her phone. A slew of messages from Katya appeared. 

**Katya**  
5:50pm  
_did u kno theres a surgeon general warning on every pack of cigs?_  
_im on my third n im starting 2 feel guilty_  
_shit_  
_fourth_

**Trixie**  
6:08pm  
_put them down_

**Katya**  
6:10pm  
_ooh tell me what to do again mommy_  
_maybe when ur done kissing Bri u can come give me a lil sugar_

**Trixie**  
6:11pm  
_u’d like that, wouldnt u_

Trixie smiled down at her phone. 

“Who’s texting you?” Brianna asked nonchalantly, packing away her book in her bag. 

“Oh, no one.” Trixie put her phone away. “Come on, let’s get dinner.” 

✘✘✘

“ _Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh, through the fields we go… laughing all the way!”_

“HA! HA! HA!” 

Trixie plucked vibrantly on her guitar strings, singing at the top of her lungs with some of the other cast, who were finishing makeup and dressing for the evening’s holiday performance. Trixie had long-finished, and at the urgency of her friends, she pulled from her arsenal of Christmas Carols to entertain the group. Chi Chi was half-dressed, attempting to twerk to Trixie’s merry tune while Trixie, Aja, and Kim attempted to stifle their laughter and sing. “ _Bells on bob-tail ring, making spirits bright! Oh, what fun it is to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight!”_ Even Violet had found herself in on the fun, one smokey-eye finished as she waved her makeup brush to the beat. Katya was swaying as well, smiling, no, gleaming, at Trixie through the mirror. She had only just started with her makeup, dusting on a bit of bronzer. 

“ _Jingle bells! Jingle bells! Jingle all the way! Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh, hey! Jingle bells! Jingle bells! Jingle all the way! Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh, hey!”_

Trixie finished the last of the song with the hammering of her final chord and laughter and applause from the group. Encouragements for more filled the room and Trixie had to sit back and wrack her brain for another carol.

“Do you remember all the religious crap you had to play, for like, the church people?” Katya asked.

“I think so,” Trixie said with a laugh, adjusting her hands on the guitar. “Do you know _Mary Did You Know?_ ”

“Who?” Katya asked. 

Trixie stifled a laugh. “ _Mary Did You Know?_ ”

“Is that like… Annie did you - er - Annie, did you like, like - uhm. Annie are you okay?” Katya shook her head defeatedly. “I have _no_ idea what you’re saying, right now.” 

“The _song_ , Katya. The song, _Mary Did You Know?_ ” Trixie laughed affectionately. 

“No, no, no! I don’t know it!” For the first time, it was like Katya was whining. But cute, in a sweet defeated way that made Trixie want to pull her close.

“God, that was like watching a car crash.” Violet scrunched up her nose and laughed boisterously. “You two are a mess.” 

“Oh!” Katya tuned from the mirror to face Trixie, her eyes wide, their knees almost brushing. “ _Oh, holy night...”_ It was automatic, the way Trixie’s fingers took to the strings at the sound of the melody. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she knew the pattern, and she was almost winging it. But muscle memory took hold, and Trixie’s eyes widened pleasantly. 

“Oh, I do know this! _The stars are brightly shining…”_ The two of them sang together very, very briefly, but Trixie quickly dropped off. She might know the pickings, the words were… an entirely different story. Much to her surprise, Katya kept going. 

“ _Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth, the thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new glorious morn--”_

“God, you know the words?” Trixie asked incredulously. 

“Of course I do, that, mama, is a classic.” Katya resumed her makeup, giving Trixie a playful side-eye. “What kind of Protestant are you? Doesn’t know all the words to _O Holy Night!_!” she shook her head. 

“What kind of Atheist are you-” Trixie imitated playfully. “Knows all the words to _O Holy Night!_ ”

Katya cackled. “An _educated_ one, you ignorant hick!” 

Trixie sighed affectionately at her friend and finally set her guitar aside, stretching her fingers and turning back to the mirror. 

“This is our last show before we go on vacation!” Trixie paused as if having that revelation for the first time. “God, what the fuck am I gonna do without you guys for a week?” 

“Get laid, hopefully.” Kim said sharply. “Oh, God, when’s the Christmas party? Parties usually work for you-” 

The cast started cackling, Trixie settled into a feigned pout. 

“Y’all are fucking rude.” Trixie sneered. “I was literally so fucked that night-” 

“Girl, it was literally all there, the weed just brought it out!” Kim screeched, leaving Trixie speechless.

“Speaking of,” Katya quirked a brow. “Who is having the party this year?” She had her lower lip almost entirely lined and her brows were creased in so much focus, Trixie wanted to giggle at the sight. 

“Not me.” Bianca said assuredly, playing with Adore’s hair, fixing it into the cleanest braid Trixie ever saw. “I’d love nothing more than to never attend a party with any of you ever again.” 

“Things are different now, Willow, don’t be a Grinch,” Adore hummed, leaning her head on Bianca’s knee. She was sat on the floor in front of Bianca who was settled back into the cushions of the couch. Completely inseparable, the two of them were now. “It would be nice to see everyone before I leave… What about Ginger?” 

“Can’t.” Ginger said, fixing his holiday tie. 

“Why?” Adore asked. 

“Don’t wanna.” 

Everyone snickered.

“Katya, why don’t you host it?” Adore asked, leaning back to stretch her back. 

“Because nothing says Christmas like a literal hole in the ground that’s also our actual workplace! Have you ever read the book about the Witch, the Wardrobe and Katya’s Apartment?” Aja said coolly, eliciting cackles from the rest of the cast. “Besides, then Trixie will probably make out with _her_ girlfriend, too.” The group laughed again, Trixie groaned irritably.

“Oh, _come on_ -” Katya began defensively. 

“No, no, no,” Aja shook his head. “You’re right, I’m wrong. Trixie’s already made out with your girlfriend! She’s gonna make out with _you_ , then. My bad, everyone, seriously. My bad!” 

“Okay, cunt. Why don’t you volunteer your fresh new place? It’ll give me plenty of opportunities to trash it after that comment.” Katya retaliated. 

“Sorry, Trash Panda,” Chi Chi shook his head. “We’ve already gotten a noise complaint. Can’t push it.” 

“Was it sex?” Alaska asked. “It was sex. Was it sex? Katya, it was sex?” 

“It was totally sex.” Katya agreed, finishing off her mouth and smiling softly at Trixie. “Well, what about you? Would that new roommate of yours be okay with a little party?”

“If she can keep herself in control...” Aja mumbled

“ _Shut up_!” Katya snapped. 

Trixie thought for a moment. It actually didn’t strike her as a particularly bad idea. “I can text and ask her.” Trixie relieved her phone from the bottom of her purse. She scrolled to Farrah’s contact. Their previous texts had mostly involved the usual: ‘can you grab toilet paper on the way home?’ or ‘did you use my hairdryer this morning?’ and ‘can i borrow your eyeliner and that little pink dress?’, but Trixie was sure their interactions would upgrade once they _actually_ had time to spend together. She typed in the quick query before picking at Katya’s hair. She kept brushing the irritating little strands out of her face, so Trixie took the liberty of tucking them neatly behind her ear. 

“She’ll say yes,” Aja assured. “It means she gets to dress up and meet new people.” 

Her phone buzzed on the counter, Farrah’s response an all-caps ‘YES’ and when Aja peered over her shoulder, he just grinned. “So, I guess party at my place!” she laughed. “How about the Saturday like… 9? That cool?” 

Everyone seemed rather pleased with the idea, so Trixie wrote down her new address (having to check with Aja to assure the numbers were correct), and taped it to the dressing room door. 

“Can I invite Brianna?” Katya asked after a moment of silence. 

“What? Of _course_ you can.” Trixie creased her brows. “You know I love Bri-” 

“Hey-” Bianca’s voice cut through the chatter. “Places, five minutes.” She was peeling herself off the couch, the struggle evident in the way Adore held onto to her hand and whined. But Bianca was… giggling, her fingers caressing the lines of Adore’s jaw. Trixie found herself watching in the mirror while she spoke, Katya’s eyes following sympathetically. 

Katya hesitated and then spoke. “I know. And I know she’ll wanna go, but, you know…” 

Trixie waved her hand dismissively. “She’s always invited. Always.” 

And Trixie meant it, too. 

“Thank you,” Katya said sincerely. “We both love you. A lot.” she winked at Trixie. 

After Bianca disappeared, Adore stumbled to her feet and wrapped her arms around Trixie from behind. Katya stood and turned to get her costume. 

“I miss you,” Adore said softly into Trixie’s freshly done hair. 

“Me too, Dory.” Trixie smiled a little. 

“I’m sorry I don’t come around- I’m afraid it’s gonna make B-” 

“I know.” Trixie touched the end of Adore’s braid, feeling the soft blue strands. The color was nearly gone now. “It’s okay.” 

Trixie meant that, too. 

“How’s the new place?” Adore asked, taking Trixie’s hand from her hair and lacing their fingers together. 

“Good. Roommate’s good, lots of space, it's quiet, clean, you know-” 

“You’re not mad I moved back in with Bianca?” 

“Adore.” Trixie said calmly. “No. I didn't really ever have room for you, anyway, and this was the _whole_ plan-”

“Not all of it was part of the plan, T.” 

Adore’s bluntness caught Trixie off-guard, but she was quick to respond. “Yeah, well, it’s kind of over isn’t it?” 

Adore’s looked contemplative. “Maybe in another world,” she said certainly, her beautiful plump lips stretching into a smile. “I love you, Trixie. I’m gonna miss you.” 

“I love you, too.” Trixie said, almost tearfully. _Almost_. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“Hey-” Adore pulled Trixie into a hug. “We still have the party, okay? Cry when I get on the plane though, Bianca will, it’ll be a goddamn party.” 

Trixie laughed. “ _That_ I’d love to see-” 

“One minute! Come _on_ , kids! Let’s go!” Bianca hollered, her clipboard tucked under her arm. 

Trixie stood, fixed her skirt, and slid into her pumps. Adore helped her lift her guitar over her hair, her head, and soon they were walking out of the room together. Their last walk to the wings together.

Katya and Bianca were waiting, respectively. Katya was pulling some stretches, Bianca was looking over the setlist, mentally doing checks. 

Adore and Trixie separated with little smiles, the first ‘see you later’ of many to come. 

Trixie, instinctively, wrapped her arms tightly around Katya’s waist. 

“Hey, you.”

“Hey.” Katya gleamed. Trixie was always in awe of how she could see those perfect white teeth in the dark of the wing. “You excited to get out here?” 

Trixie rested her cheek on Katya’s shoulder, hoping her makeup would survive the embrace. Really, Trixie just wanted a little affection, she’s felt so touch-starved since Adore moved out. But touching Katya wasn’t at all the same as touching Adore; touching Katya was like coming home, if your home happened to be on the very edge of a cliff and you could fall head first at any given moment. Trixie’s heart felt like it was at exactly where it should be, beating hard against Katya’s back. It was just… completely inappropriate. Trixie separated herself from Katya.

“Always am,” she promised.

Ru was onstage, back into his show spiel, talking about upcoming events, how long the club will be closed for the holidays, and the New Years celebration they were sure to have. Eventually, the lights on the stage and in the house dimmed, and the familiar chime of _‘All I Want for Christmas’_ began. Trixie could hear Aja scurrying on on stage, heels clacking. The crowd roared to life at the tune, at the sight of Aja when the lights arose for his reveal. 

Katya made an irritated noise. 

“What?” Trixie laughed. 

“Overplayed as hell.” 

Aja swung his white boa and disappeared from Trixie’s sightline as her descended the stairs. 

Trixie scoffed. “You’re doing _Santa Baby!_ ” 

Katya shook her head, clearly suppressing the bubbles of laughter in her throat. “And you’re doing Dolly! Way to show the judges versatility.” 

“Let me have my brand in peace.” Trixie slapped her best friend’s shoulders. 

“I’m the anti-brand, mama, I’m No Logo, I’m Naomi Fucking Klein,” Katya shook her head, still smiling. Trixie had no idea what any of that meant. She opened her mouth to ask, but almost immediately closed it, realizing Brianna would never. 

_Two things you don’t have_.

The show was going smoothly. The cast performed, going on and off, singing, dancing, acting, telling jokes. The air was light, fulfilling; but the thing Trixie remembered most about that evening is the soft kiss Katya had placed on her cheek before she went out to the stage. 

The audience was cheery. They welcomed Trixie with wild applause, whistles, a few catcalls (but Trixie was far too used to that). Trixie waved to the crowd as she entered, sat on the stool before the microphone, and propped her heal on the rung so she could rest her guitar comfortably in her lap. 

“You know when you go through something, but you kinda know you’ll get through it? My grandpa always taught me that. He always taught me there’s a light,” Trixie waved her hand around, as if summoning the thoughts as they came. “Something positive to work towards, even at your worst.” Trixie pursed her lips. “I’m not going home for Christmas this year and I really miss him. So, I here’s a little Dolly tune to remind us that we’ll all be just fine and dandy in the end.” 

_“Hey, maybe I'll dye my hair,_  
_Maybe I'll move somewhere,_  
_Maybe I'll get a car,_  
_Maybe I'll drive so far,_  
_They'll all lose track,_  
_Me, I'll bounce right back,_

The very thought of this song brought Trixie back home. She could almost smell her mom cooking the turkey in the kitchen, could hear the sound of her ax chopping apart wood for the fire. And every year without fail, Trixie would find herself in the back of the room, singing and playing with her grandfather at the end of the evening. _Hard Candy Christmas_ was their tradition. 

_Maybe I'll sleep real late,_  
_Maybe I'll lose some weight,_  
_Maybe I'll clear my junk,_  
_Maybe I'll just get drunk on apple wine,_  
_Me, I'll be just..._

_Fine and dandy,_  
_Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas,_  
_I'm barely getting through tomorrow,_  
_But still I won't let,_  
_Sorrow bring me way down_

_‘You just need practice, Bess!’_ She could hear him say it, now. Say that God-forsaken nickname, banned to everyone but him. He used to do it, sometimes, just to watch her mother sneer disapprovingly - but they both knew she’d never put a stop to it. The nickname was his and his alone. ‘Don’t drop the guitar, Bess,’ and ‘gotcha a new song, Bessie!’ and ‘Merry Christmas, Bess,’ and ‘Bess, I’m so proud of you!’.  
He was the only person who pushed her. The only person who really believed she could accomplish anything. The only person who she remembers promising her she’d be loved, by him especially, no matter what.  
She held onto that. 

_I’ll be fine and dandy,_  
_Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas,_  
_I'm barely getting through tomorrow,_  
_But still I won't let,_  
_Sorrow bring me way down_

_Hey, maybe I'll learn to sew,_  
_Maybe I'll just lie low,_  
_Maybe I'll hit the bars,_  
_Maybe I'll count the stars until dawn,_  
_Me, I will go on._

Like Katya’s mother would stone her tights, Trixie’s grandfather would teach her guitar. Her mother worked two jobs before her stepdad came along, unable to watch her children during their days off school. They’d spend hours, just them two, playing guitar on the back porch (He played, Trixie fumbled). Until Trixie could sing. Until Trixie could harmonize, and pick just as fast, and play just as loud. 

She missed him. 

_Maybe I'll settle down,_  
_Maybe I'll just leave town,_  
_Maybe I'll have some fun,_  
_Maybe I'll meet someone_  
_And make him mine,_  
_Me, I'll be just..._

_Fine and dandy,_  
_Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas,_  
_I'm barely getting through tomorrow,_  
_But still I won't let,_  
_Sorrow bring me way down,_

She’ll be fine; he taught her that. She’ll always be fine, even if things have to get _a whole lot worse before they got better_. Trixie thought they were already getting better. She had her new apartment, her new friends, her new life, and she was so grateful. She had Kim and Ginger, she had Adore - even if things were shifting between them - she had Katya.

Her eyes caught the Russian’s eyes, just briefly, in the wings. Her stupid heart fluttered.

They _both_ had Brianna, she reminded herself.

_I’ll be fine and dandy,_  
_Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas,_  
_I'm barely getting through tomorrow,_  
_But still I won't let,_  
_Sorrow bring me way down,_

_'Cause I'll be fine,_  
_I'll be fine,_  
_Oh, I'll be fine.”_

She’ll be fine. 

For now.

✘✘✘

Trixie fumbled with her keys outside her apartment. It was dark in the hallway, just a few dim industrial lights guided her up the steps and to her second-floor home. Her feet were sore, even just from her pumps. Aja had warned her the elevator hadn’t worked in years and she shouldn’t expect it to work any time soon. The stairs were like hell, dimly lit and loud as shit. Her guitar and her bag were weighing heavily on her shoulders as she trudged exhaustedly.  
She liked her new place, really, most things beat a single room at a hotel. She had her own room, amply sized with a full bed and a big window. Farrah had the same arrangement just a few doors down, hers already adorned in bright pink. Their kitchen was big enough for the two of them, Trixie used it to rediscover how shitty she was at cooking. The bathroom was nice, their schedules allowed both girls to bathe in shifts, but they would do their makeup in the privacy of their own rooms.  
When she finally swung the door open, she was startled. Farrah was wide awake, enthusiastically decorating their apartment for the festivities. She was usually fast asleep or curled up on the couch watching some cheesy film, the apartment dark.  
But every light they owned was switched on, there were random decorations strewn about the floor, and Farrah stood in the middle of the chaos. 

“Hey!” Farrah greeted Trixie cheerily. Her hair was up and awry, she looked like she had been bouncing of the walls all evening, hell, Farrah hadn’t even bothered to change out of her work uniform. “I bought us some decorations for the party and I thought we could make the place cute! Oh- and there’s a tree in my car! It’s not very big, but I can’t get it in by myself, so I really, really need you to help me carry it up tomorrow!” 

Trixie blinked a couple times, fought the exhaustion that only allowed her to understand half of what Farrah was babbling about.

“Wow,” Trixie laughed a little. “Yeah, Far, the place… it looks…” she searched for the right words, “It looks so messy.” 

Farrah laughed. “I know, I know, there’s a lot left to do! I’m sorry, I’ll clean up!” 

Farrah had taken the liberty of putting up holly, window decals, cotton ‘snow’ on their shelves, and more. She’d draped their wooden coffee table in a pink cover with white-trim, on top were some ornaments, some mistletoe, and matching pink stockings with a ‘T’ embroidered on one, and an ‘F’ on the other. Trixie smiled tiredly.

“How much do I owe you?” Trixie set her bag by the door. “We can go halfsies.” 

“Nah, just buy me dinner and a really great present.” Farrah winked. “How was the show? How much time off do you have now?”

“Show went well, I have a little over a week.” Trixie collapsed on the couch and picked up one of the stockings, her fingers feeling the threads of the ‘T’. 

“I’m glad,” Farrah said pleasingly, stringing some lights over their television stand. A Hallmark Christmas film was on mute, mocking Trixie for her lack of a holiday romance. “I hope you don’t mind - I invited some work friends.” 

“No, of course not! More the merrier.” Trixie waved her hand dismissively, 

Farrah made an excited noise. “And I have Aja and Kim coming over tomorrow morning.” Farrah plopped down beside Trixie, placing two beers in front of them. 

“Aja’s coming over _already_?” Trixie popped the top off her beer. “Jesus, I didn’t think I was that shitty of a roommate!” 

Farrah gasped. “No, no! It’s not that!” she whined, turning so her full body was facing Trixie’s. “I asked him to dye my hair for me and Kim is coming to make sure he doesn’t ruin it” 

Trixie laughed. “Oh, yeah. You need Kim.” she took a sip of beer. “Why not Chi Chi?” 

“I dunno, he’s taking some class. Aja wants to spend time with me.” Farrah sat down beside Trixie. 

“So, can I ask what color you’re doing?” Trixie had an inkling she already knew. 

“Oh, pink, duh!” Farrah rose from her spot from the couch and grabbed a Walmart bag, one of many, off the kitchen counter. Out of it, she pulled an array of pink hair dye. From the hottest of pinks to the lightest pastel Trixie had ever seen. “I can’t fucking decide which one I want-” she griped, handing Trixie box after box. 

Trixie was transfixed by the boxes. She’d never considered touching her hair with dye before - her mom would never have allowed it. She’d admired Adore’s pretty blue from afar, never considering the color for herself. She’d never considered pink either. 

“Something lighter.” Trixie said softly. “It would go great with your complexion.” Trixie handed the box labeled ‘Party Pink’ to Farrah. “I think this one.”

Farrah nodded understandingly. “I really like this one.” Farrah picked up the other boxes. “I can return these, right?” 

“Uh,” Trixie’s voice sounded unsure as she took one of the boxes from Farrah’s hands. This one was called ‘Bubblegum Pink’ and the girl on the front had perfectly combed bangs, beach waves that reminded her of Katya. “I think I’m gonna do this one. Do you mind?” 

Farrah let out an all-mighty squeal that left Trixie’s heart thrumming. “No way!”

“What? Shouldn’t I?” Trixie looked between the box and Farrah’s excited visage. 

“No, no, no- you _totally_ should! God, please, you should! You’re gonna look incredible- I’m gonna go tell Aja!” She squealed again. “Oh my God, we’re gonna be - we’re gonna be the pink effing roommates! That’s what they’re going to call us!” 

“Yeah, Farrah, in fucking prison!”

Farrah flung herself off the couch and disappeared in the kitchen. Trixie shook her head and looked over the box again. 

A little change never hurt nobody.

✘✘✘

Farrah looked like she had a pound of pink slime dumped on her head and it was causing Trixie to second-guess herself.  
Still, it was bonding time, right? Trixie was on the floor, Adore’s head resting comfortably on her shoulder, Farrah’s feet in her lap as she painted her toenails a matching pink. She had asked Adore over last minute that morning. The thought that this may be one of the last times they’ll ever get to spend together pushed Trixie over the edge. She loved Bianca, but, honestly, she could care less about Bianca’s feelings at that moment.. Adore was her friend too.  
Aja was applying the dye to Farrah’s hair, the gunk pink and bright and sort like something you’d see dumped on a kid from _Nickelodeon_. Kim was micromanaging, cleaning up any spilled dye, wiping it off Farrah’s face and neck with a cloth. 

“If I fail out of beauty school, do you think I could be a Dominatrix?” Farrah was examining her fingernails, filing them down. 

“You?” Trixie asked, laughing at the joke. 

Aja waved his hand as if to dismiss Trixie. It sent some hair dye flying onto Kim’s old t-shirt. “Trixie, Farrah _likes_ control. This one over there is a dom top” He said slyly. “You haven’t heard her dirty talk - yet - man, some of the guys she’d bring over would be into the kinkiest shit.” 

Farrah whined. “Aja don’t make her want to move ouuuut!” 

“You know I love you, Far-” 

“You don’t love me!” she griped, playfully hitting him on the chest. “It’s just a goddamn question! Want my options to be open-” 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Aja put his palms up in defeat. “Don’t poke the little care bear!”

Adore laughed. “You know what, girl? You can be whatever you wanna be.” 

Kim wiped some of the dye from Farrah’s neck. “What do you guys think you’d be doing if it wasn’t the club or -” she looked at Farrah, “hair, right?” 

Farrah nodded. 

“Oh, hell,” Aja took a few of the small claw clips and sectioned Farrah’s hair until it was all off her neck. He tapped her shoulder as if to signify she was done and set a timer. “Drag for forty dollars a week back in Brooklyn, definitely.” 

“Makeup. I’d wanna do the crazy avant-garde stuff for models. I eat that shit up. After I finished beauty school, I got the job at the club and Ru had me doing more design-oriented stuff before performing. Now he can hire outside people.” Kim tossed her wash cloth aside. “Come on, Trixie. Your turn, babe.”

“By outside people you mean Bianca?” Aja asked, collapsing on one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Yeah, Bianca.” Kim laughed. 

Adore picked at one of her split ends. “Bianca would be my sugar mama.” she said decidedly. “I’d sell my CDs out of my car and I’d fuck her for food - well, for fun mostly, but food and money is good, too.” she snorted. 

“What did Bianca do before the club?” Trixie finished off Farrah’s last toes before getting up. 

Adore smiled. “She lived in New York. Well, she’s from Louisiana, but Katrina hit and -” Adore shrugged. “She lost everything. She moved up north, got a job making costumes and stuff and, I mean, she’s incredible. Half the clothes you see her in she has _made_.” 

“Are you serious?” Trixie creased her brows. 

“Yeah! The gowns she wore hosting our shows are all hers. Ru started commissioning pieces before he moved her out here. Gave her full-time work.” 

“What shows was Ru commissioning gowns for?” Trixie finally found the courage to sit herself down in the chair. Out of her periphery, she could see Kim mixing her dye, putting on gloves, a towel around Trixie’s shoulders. 

“Girl.” Aja looked as Trixie as if she was stupid. “You _do_ know Mama Ru was a drag queen, right? God, what do you and Katya even _talk_ about?”

“Their latent homosexual feelings for one another,” Kim rolled her eyes. 

Trixie opened her mouth to argue, but Kim tugged rather roughly on her blonde hair. 

“Yes, _Mama_ Ru was a queen. Mostly in New York, but after she and Georges got serious they moved to Boston.” Kim continued, taking Trixie’s hair and parting it with a comb. 

“Why Boston?” Trixie asked,

“Wanted to develop a bigger drag scene, foster a safe space for LGBT youth here, that kind of thing - honestly, Katya knows more about it than anyone else. He’s the one who took her in, got her sober right around the time the place started picking up speed.” 

“She stayed on Bianca’s couch for a while, too. And then Ru had the basement renovated, it used to have our costumes and stuff, and Katya moved in there.” Adore added. “They really took care of her.” 

Trixie wondered briefly why Katya wouldn’t have told her all of this. 

“You should’ve invited her, Trixie!” Aja exclaimed. “Instead, we got stuck with this bitch,” Aja nudged Adore who gave him a rather well-deserved punch. 

Trixie shook her head. “She’s out with Brianna, I think.” 

“What do you think they’re doing?” Adore looked at Trixie with her brows aloft. 

“Fucking.” Aja said sharply. “Much to Trixie’s disappointment.” 

Trixie felt her breath catch in her throat, her chest tight at the thought. 

Trixie closed her eyes and leaned back towards Kim. “I didn’t ask.”

“Keep your head still.” Kim said thoughtfully. Trixie felt the first strokes of the brush, of the dye weighing her hair down on the back of her neck. “I’m surprised you’re doing this. I mean, I am putting the dye in your hair and I’m still fucking surprised.”

“Why are you surprised-” 

Adore let out a laugh. “Trixie, you flinched every second I was ironing your hair. Someone get a beer for the meltdown she’ll have when she sees this semi-permanent mess.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine!” 

Kim picked at Trixie’s hair, separating and piecing strands. “Your mom ever let you do this before?” 

“She caught me trying to dye my hair with Kool-Aid when I was twelve and threatened to shave it all off.” Trixie laughed. “Good thing I’m never going home again.” 

“What would your family be doing if you were home?” Adore asked. “Like what do you guys do on Christmas?” 

“Lots of church.” Trixie began. “Usually I would play guitar and sing at mass. Sometimes I would babysit the little ones in daycare, stuff like that. I spent most of my breaks at my friends’ houses. And then my family would go to mass Christmas morning, come home, open gifts, and head over to my grandparents.” 

Adore tugged one of Trixie’s feet in her lap, immediately working black nail polish on her toes. Trixie didn’t bother to fight. “And then?”

“And then… my mom would cook dinner with my step-dad, my grandma would watch movies with my sister, and I would hang out with my grandpa, basically. Lots of separation.” Trixie snorted. “We aren’t really that close.” 

“After my dad left, our Christmases were usually pretty much just the immediate family - my mom, my siblings and I. My mom’s a chola, we are so fucking close so I loved spending time with her.” Adore smiled to herself. 

“Awweee, that’s cute!” Farrah nudged Adore’s shoulder. “I’m close with my mom, too.” She was picking at Aja’s rapidly growing hair, securing little braids in it. Something told Trixie this wasn’t the first time she’d done this to him. 

“Where’s your family from?” Trixie asked, wiggling the toes Adore had already finished. 

“Houston. I wanted to go home this year, too, but beauty school is fucking expensive. My mom said she’s gonna send us a care package.” 

“Oh, I miss them.” Aja sighed dreamily. “If your mom sends those chocolate clusters, make sure Trixie gives some to me.” 

“No, you moved out, you lost the privilege.” Farrah said firmly, and Trixie briefly imagined the other Farrah in her harsh tone. Dominatrix Farrah.

Trixie and Kim laughed. “Listen, if they get here before the party, we’ll set them out. First come first serve. Deal?” 

Aja sighed wearily, but nonetheless nodded. 

“Who all is coming?” Farrah asked. “Like all your people…?”

“Yeah,” Trixie thought for a moment. “I invited everyone.” 

Adore made a disgusted sound. “Please tell me you did _not_ invite Ron.” Trixie’s eyes widened, she was all to aware of the way Kim’s hands in her hair were slowing. Trixie made a violent ‘shut up’ gesture at Adore, but she was focused on Trixie’s toes. “Especially after the way he stuck his tongue down your throat.” 

Aja made a strangled laughing sound while Trixie could feel Kim become very still behind her.

“Listen, I knew you guys kissed - had to hear it from him,” Kim sounded rather irritated. “But I didn’t know it was _more_ than that?” Her voice was so quiet, hesitant, even. Trixie rested her face in her hand. 

“It _wasn’t_!” Trixie began pleadingly. “It was nothing, it was just a kiss, I literally felt nothing for him.” 

“To be fair, Kimmy, he was trying to sleep with Trixie since, like, day one?” Aja offered. “We made fun of her for it the whole time, remember?” 

“I told him the next day I didn’t want him anywhere near me- Katya - Katya saw the whole thing, I had a total meltdown about it-” Trixie turned around to face Kim. She was looking rather contemplative, Trixie couldn’t detect any hurt in her expression, but she was sure it was lurking, somewhere. 

“So when he realized you weren't an option, he came to me...” 

“Ooh, girl, that’s rough-” Aja shook his head. 

“Kim, I’m sure that’s not _exactly_ what happened-”

“Yeah, no. Ron’s a fucker.” Adore nodded. Kim seemed to be deflating, seemed far beyond disappointed. 

Trixie looked back at Kim. “You deserve better. I didn’t know any of this - and I didn’t think it was fair to me to come at your relationship.” 

“You mean like the way you came at Katya’s?” Kim raised her brows. “So, the plan was just for you to push me away?” 

“Kim, you’re missing key pieces such as -” 

“Adore…” Trixie began warningly. 

“- Trixie wasn’t really willing in the first place.” Adore finished. 

Kim paused, Trixie could see the cogs turning, the way everything was connecting in her head. She looked at Trixie.

The silence was deafening.

“Trixie?” She asked finally, her tone pleading for Trixie to say it was untrue.

“I didn’t want any of it,” Trixie said quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“You should’ve told _someone_.” Kim said harshly. “Ru would’ve taken care of that, hell, Aja, or Violet, or _I_ would’ve taken care of that. And I certainly wouldn’t have started dating him! God, you must all think I’m such an idiot!”

“No, Kim--” Trixie’s tone was the one pleading now, “no one thinks you’re an idiot. I’m the idiot, I should have told you, I just felt so ashamed and guilty. I still do. Trixie sighed. “I asked Katya not to do anything about it. I was _barely_ a month at the club, I couldn’t fuck this up because then I would’ve had to go back home-” Kim swiftly grabbed Trixie’s hand. 

“Girl,” she began, her face suddenly clearer and more open than it had been since the conversation started. “You wouldn’t have ruined anything. We would’ve taken care of you. All of us. You’re family. You’re our sister.” 

“Amen,” Aja rocked onto his feet and patted Trixie’s knee. “The moment you got put on payroll you became part of us, bitch. Ain’t no turning back. Even if you quit less than a year from now.”

Kim seemed significantly calmer, maybe a little more in thought. “He’s the reason, right? Why we kinda-” Kim gestured between the two of them. 

“Well, I was - I mean - yeah. Yeah, I guess. And the whole, uhm, Adore thing was pretty preoccupying.” 

“You occupied yourself in my pants, Trixie. It’s not like they don’t know what we did.” Adore popped a piece of gum in her mouth and took up space behind Trixie, finishing up her hair in Kim’s place

Trixie laughed at that. 

“I see him tomorrow.” Kim said, collapsing her back against Trixie’s shins. “I’m gonna dump him - and Trixie? I really think you should tell Ru about this.” 

“Awwh, not before Christmas.” Farrah said clearly distracted. She was picking at her cuticles, focused on absolutely nothing else. 

“It was almost two months ago, Kim.” Trixie shook her head. “It’s pointless.” 

Adore popped her gum. “Kim’s right. He needs to learn a lesson. No one can force you, but - Trix, if you don’t go, I’ll make sure Bianca will.” 

“Oh, God.” Aja shook his head. “That’s a fate worse than death - sicking Hurricane Bianca Del Rio on ‘im.” 

Kim laughed, but it was subtle, sad maybe. “Yeah, she’ll rip him a new asshole.” 

Trixie nudged her toe against Kim’s arm. “I’m sorry about your relationship.” 

“I’m sorry he did that to you. Besides, it was destined to end. He’s a pretty shitty boyfriend.” Kim paused. “Fantasizing about the relationship was more fun than actually being _in_ it. Adore was probably a better lover within the first ten minutes of your… _thing_ than Ron was this whole time.”

“Oh, I was.” Adore giggled. “That was a fun few days.” 

Trixie nodded. “Still. I’m sorry it had to end that way, Kim.” 

Kim heaved a sigh. “No one wants to be with someone like that. Even beyond you, he could do something to me or a girl down the road. That’s more important. He needs to learn his fucking lesson.” 

“Yeah,” Trixie pursed her lips. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

“I know I am.” Kim said, saddling herself in Aja’s side. 

“So!” Aja clapped his hands. “Trixie, you coming out yet?”

Trixie groaned. 

“Come on,” Adore said between strands of hair. “Leave her alone.”

“Even if Katya…” Aja grinned devilishly. “Broke up with Brianna tomorrow. Said she wants to be with you. Would you?” 

Trixie used all the energy in her body to muster up the sharpest, nastiest look in her repertoire. But she couldn’t help but feel that little light in her chest start to flicker and spark. 

“Ooh, that is a _no_.” Kim laughed. 

“I thought you said you were straight?” Farrah asked curiously, she was twisting the pink-covered towel on her neck, her eyes going back and forth between Trixie, Adore and Aja. “Why does no one around here ever tell me anything?” She whined.

Trixie shook her head profusely. “No - no, it’s just-”

“Keep still, I’m almost done-” Adore chastised. “I’m _trying_ something-” 

Trixie immediately switched gears. “Adore, if you fuck up my hair-!” 

“Trixie, shut up!” Adore sounded intently focused. 

“Farrah, we’re all just wondering when Trixie will make herself happy.” Kim said coolly. 

“Gay is happy!” Farrah squeaked.

“Kim…” Trixie started, ignoring Farrah. “What’re you trying to get at?”

“Me, specifically?” Kim set her beer on the floor. “That if you figured your shit out, a certain blonde chain-smoker could make you a lot happier than she does now.” 

“Okay, first of all.” Trixie crossed her legs, causing Kim to turn and face her, “gross. And second of all, I know you’re referring to Katya-” 

Farrah leaned into Aja. “Which one is Katya?” 

“Gymnastics, bitch.” 

“Oh, God! They’d be so _cute_ together!” Farrah squealed.

“Really? I’m referring to Katya? Because I felt I was being really vague about it,” Kim replied. “But since you brought her up, care to-”

The loud chime of Farrah’s kitchen timer invaded the room. Trixie was quite _literally_ saved by the bell. Her pulse had been steadily picking up its pace, and with the thankful distraction, Trixie could control her breathing again.

“Hey, wait on finishing this conversation - come on, Aja!” Farrah chimed sweetly. “I gotta get rid of this goop!”

They pair disappeared into the shared bathroom, leaving Trixie with Adore and Kim and their scrutinizing looks and careful silence. 

“You’re done, baby.” Adore removed her gloves from her fingers and squeezed Trixie’s shoulders. 

The time ticked by, eventually, Farrah came bouncing out of the bathroom, pink hair sopping and dripping down her back. She was all smiles, running around the apartment with her hair dryer and a mirror, determined to see the result. It was certainly pink, Trixie figured it’d be a bit lighter when she was finished drying it, and then near perfect.  
Trixie figured Farrah would be beautiful in anything. She was just one of those girls. Like Katya. 

Trixie, on the other hand, had a few more minutes to spare with the dye. Her scalp itched, and honestly, she would’ve done anything to relieve herself of the budding burn from the chemicals. But Kim had warned her it came with the territory. It was too late to turn back anyhow, after all, what could possibly go wrong? 

Other than the obvious discomfort, Trixie's thoughts were wandering. Even as she focused on painting Aja’s fingernails or braiding Adore’s hair, her mind was hopelessly returning to her conversation with Brianna - nearly twenty-four hours ago. The soft spark she’d felt invading her chest, igniting a flame and turning up the gas until her heart was scorched with blonde hair, perfect teeth, red lips… 

Brianna said they were going to spend their lives together. Trixie lost her chance before she even realized she had one. 

That is if Katya even thought of her that way. 

Trixie thought back to all the missed opportunities. The kisses Katya had begged for, the touches, the smiles, and the long, soft looks at one another. The way they cuddled, breathed each other’s scent, and were both lost when one was mad at the other. 

She’d slept with Adore and it was still different from her relationship with Katya. 

But she’d done it with Katya at the back of her mind. 

She’d chalked up that short experience to one big emotional breakdown. She’d nearly lost one of the best friends she’d ever had because of pettiness, and she found comfort in Adore that stemmed far beyond emotions. Comfort can be physical. 

… _very_ physical. 

She’d refused to do anything beyond rationalizing that before. Refused to open her eyes and see that there might be something else, that the feeling in the back of her mind might be more than just another one of her repressed anxieties.

But, the game has changed. Trixie had leveled up a notch or two. 

“You’ve been quiet.” Kim commented. “Regretting that dye, huh?” 

Trixie gave a half-smile. “You mean the chemical burns I’m receiving are regret-worthy?” 

“What’s on your mind?” Kim pressed. She was currently a couple fingers deep in the boneless chicken wings Adore had convinced everyone to order along with their pizza. Trixie laughed at the notion.

“Nothing,” Trixie picked at the dried dye on the towel around her shoulders. “I don’t know, like-” Trixie glanced around the room. Adore and Aja were having a quietly intense conversation about bras and wigs and being queer, and whatever else the two of them had in common. “I went out with Brianna yesterday.” 

Kim nodded patiently. “Okay?” 

“And… I think something weird happened.” Trixie pursed her lips, her eyes averted to everything and anyone else. 

“Like?” Kim’s voice was gentle, understanding. “Oh, God - she didn’t try and make a move -”

“She would _never_.” Trixie said sharply. 

“Is she gonna break up with Katya?”

“No.” Trixie tucked some hair behind her ear. “And I think that’s the problem, Kim.” she kept her eyes trained on a loose thread in her towel, twisting and tugging until her fingertip turned blue. 

“What do you -” Kim’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, you’ve finally landed on Earth, haven’t you?” 

Trixie felt nauseous. “You’re an asshole.” 

“No, no, no I’m sorry!” Kim grabbed Trixie’s arm, her voice lowered. “It’s just been so _obvious_ to all of us.”

“You’re _such_ an asshole!” She repeated desperately. Trixie started to stand up, her stomach falling down, down, down into her ass. 

“No, Trixie. Listen, I’m sorry. It’s just -” she shook her head. “What happened?” 

“We were talking about Katya - and I think I just got carried away. I kept thinking about all the time we spend together, how she makes me laugh, how my heart literally hurts when she’s away from me. The way she _looks_ at me sometimes. Like I’m the only person she’ll ever need, like it’s her and me against the world.” 

“Not the best thing to say to her girlfriend.” Kim deadpanned. 

“Yeah.” 

“She wanted you - I think she’s said that. The timing wasn’t right.” Kim said carefully. “Sometimes that’s just how it is. You’re meant to be friends.”

The thought was like a stab - but at the same time, Trixie couldn’t help but feel like it was wildly inaccurate.  
Maybe it was just wishful thinking, maybe it was blind hope - Trixie didn’t know how to find that out. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” Kim added. “You don’t wanna break trust with-” 

“I won’t.” Trixie promised, she could feel that hollow feeling in her stomach, but now she had a name for it. She felt so alone, her heart burning around the edges of a Katya-shaped hole. She honestly preferred not knowing. 

The wind-up timer Adore had set what felt like ages ago began its incessant ringing. It vibrated on the coffee table like Trixie’s heart did at the sight of Katya. She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought. “Come on. Let’s get this out of your hair.” 

Both girls trekked to the kitchen where Kim leaned Trixie over the sink. Trixie kept her eyes open, watched as the swirls of various shades of pink went down their small, silver drain. Trixie could see the long, pink tips of her hair, wondered if she should've just hopped in the shower because of the amount of hair she has. But Kim’s hand, careful and practiced, felt nice on her scalp. Like she was scrubbing away her odd thoughts. 

And doing a shit job of it too. 

She felt hot and cold all over. She felt so unsure of herself, like life was a long, unending tightrope she had been balancing on for ages. She could feel it thinning, the threads fraying and unwinding. She didn’t know what awaited her at the bottom, but the closer she got, the more she started to realize jumping might not be the worst answer. At least she got to control that part. And everything else would follow. 

Admitting to Kim felt like her load had been lifted. It was like she had been baring it for ages, unbeknownst to her. 

The scent of conditioner filled Trixie’s nostrils and beneath the water and her hair, she felt like she was suffocating. She opened her mouth to say something, but Kim was wrapping her hair in a towel, pulling her to a stand by her shoulders. She wiped her eyes and looked at Kim, straight-on. 

She was smiling. “ _I’m_ styling your hair.” 

“No straightener.” Trixie said breathily. “Please.”

Kim just gave her a devilish grin. 

“I hope it looks as good as mine!” Farrah squealed. She ran out, looking soft and sweet. She’d applied the lightest bit of makeup (other than her blinding highlight). 

Trixie was right. She was beautiful. 

The color was dark. Much darker than Trixie had anticipated, but it matched her warm complexion. It was shining in the natural light streaming in the windows, it even retained its natural wave. 

Kim gleamed. “Aja, you did great!” 

“Doesn’t she look incredible?” Aja clasped his hands on Farrah’s shoulders. “Trixie, you ready to look this good?” 

Trixie smiled despite herself. “Yeah.” she looked at Kim. “I definitely am.” 

Farrah was beaming. “You like it, Trixie?” 

“I love it, Far!”

“Hot damn, mama! Look at you!” Adore appeared, seemingly from the bathroom. She clasped her arms around Farrah’s waist. “It looks _so_ fucking cool!” 

Farrah made a vapid giggling noise and hugged Adore back. 

Trixie took Kim’s hand and they disappeared in the bathroom. She laid out her hair products and sat on the toilet, her back to the mirror. It was a nice distraction from her inner dilemma. Trixie welcomed it. 

Kim made quick work of manipulating Trixie’s hair. Product after product, hair dryer with diffuser, wide-tooth combs, and clips. Trixie could only see the pink - it was light, much more than Farrah’s - in the strands that fell in her eyes. Trixie couldn’t detect a difference in texture, yet she didn’t dare touch it. Had she really got out of this unscathed?

“Hey,” Kim said softly. “I wanna give you a heads up before you see it.” Kim was smiling as she crimped the curls between her fingers. “It looks like Adore mixed Farrah's dye in here. Like, you have the light pink and then she put some darker streaks all over.”

“Fuck.” 

“No! It looks good! It’s - it’s a statement.” Kim wiggled her brows. “You can look if you wanna.” 

The color was just as Trixie had hoped. Light, nothing severe, but it was the dark strips Adore had added that she loved. She picked at her curls, and ever-present grin stuck on her lips. Her hair showed no signs of damage - her blonde had taken the pink much better than Trixie had ever expected. The color caught the white lights in the mirror. Her hair looked like it was shimmering, something she credited immediately to Kim. Her fingers tangled in the in the curls, watched the way they bounced back into their shape, shining with the new color. 

“You should send a picture to Katya.” Kim nudged her shoulder. 

Trixie glanced Kim’s way. “Nah.” she shook her head. “She’ll see it eventually.”

✘✘✘

No one was hungry, but everyone was eating. They’d ordered more food in that weird time of day, too late for lunch, too early for dinner, and it left everyone in meal limbo. So the group gorged on snacks, a few bags of chips, some spinach dip Farrah kept in their fridge, and whatever else they could salvage for the evening. They kept base-camp in the living room, _ABC Family’s 25 Days of Christmas_ playing the classics: _Rudolph, the Rednosed Reindeer, The Year Without A Santa Claus,_ and _A Christmas Story_ (Trixie watches that one every year). Adore had brought some premade face masks so the group slathered themselves in the green cream, no one honestly caring if it had any effect or not. It brought Trixie back to the sleepover, all those months ago in her room. Sure, they were missing a few key players, but the scene was the same.  
Adore was practically falling asleep on Trixie’s shoulder as the night progressed, cozied up in a blanket they’d been sharing. Trixie forgot how cute the little things can be. Adore had practically shaken free the braid Trixie had done for her just hours ago. She carded her fingers through the bleached waves, her arm wound gently around Adore’s thin shoulders. 

**Katya**  
6:12pm  
_i just got home from a lot of sex_  
_thought of u the whole time_  
_u know how i do_

Trixie couldn’t help but sigh at the messages. Part of her dared not to reply - but Katya would only get impatient and pester.

**Trixie**  
6:14pm  
_only counts if u said my name_

**Katya**  
6:17pm  
_how’s..._  
_oh, fuck, yes beatrice!_

Trixie couldn’t help but laugh. Adore groaned softly and turned into Trixie a little more. 

**Trixie**  
6:18pm  
_i threw up in my mouth_  
_dont EVER say that again_

**Katya**  
6:20pm  
_dont get mad get glad_  
_u wanna be called trixie when ur getting railed_

**Trixie**  
6:21pm  
_u wanna be called yekaterina when ur getting railed_  
_same thing_

**Katya**  
6:23pm  
_good point_  
_speaking of getting railed_  
_that happened to me today_

_Trixie_  
6:25pm  
_im gonna stop replying now_  
_i have adore sleeping on me_  
_and i dont wanna hear about that_

**Katya**  
6:26pm  
_u should come over_  
_i miss you_

**Trixie**  
6:28pm  
_its been 2 days since i saw you_  
_and i cant_  
_party tmr_  
_plus i have people over_

**Katya**  
6:31pm  
_does adore count as people or a date_

Adore stirred, forcing Trixie to put her phone down and adjust the way she was sitting. 

“What time is it?” Adore yawned, her face pressing carefully into Trixie’s hair. “Promised Bea I wouldn’t be too late - I have a lot to pack.” 

“6:30.” Trixie replied softly. “Do you need me to drive you?” 

“No,” Adore peeled herself from Trixie’s side. “Kim said she’d take me home.” 

While Trixie was occupied with Katya, Kim had returned with a small bowl of chips and was sitting cross-legged on the couch, chatting back and forth with Farrah as they watched the film. 

“I’m gonna leave after this is over,” Kim spoke with her mouthful. 

“Sounds good,” Adore nodded, wrapping herself back up in the blanket, back into Trixie’s side. Trixie laid her head on top of Adore and brought the blanket around them. She watched as Zooey Deschanel began to sing amidst the crowd in towards the end of _Elf_ and felt those last minutes tick by.

When the film wrapped up, Trixie shook Adore awake. The girl was like a grown kitten, softly grumpy but cute and endearing. She stretched her arms, stood wearily, and pulled Trixie into a long hug. 

“Thanks for today.” she said, her face buried in Trixie’s pink curls. 

“Thanks for coming.” Trixie smiled.

Farrah flicked on their lights. Their apartment was a total mess. Food was strewn across the coffee table and on the floor. Trixie and Farrah’s towels were thrown over the couch and there were hair products, nail polish, makeup, even clothes in the living room.  
Trixie groaned at the work she had to do in preparation for tomorrow.

Kim helped clean up the food, helped Trixie put the leftovers away while Aja gathered up all the hair products he supposedly stole from Kim. 

Hugs and kisses were exchanged, Adore gave Trixie a small kiss on the forehead. 

“Let me know if you need Bea and I to help set up, okay?”

“I will.” Trixie smiled softly. “I’ll see you in a tomorrow.” 

Kim wrapped her arm around Trixie’s shoulder. 

“Don’t have any kind of existential crisis without my explicit supervision,” she said with a devilish grin. “Don’t wash it for at least three days and then _only_ with cold water after that. Color will last longer that way.” 

“Got it.” Trixie leaned into their hug. 

Aja squeezed his head between the two of them. “If you and Kat ever break the bed, mama, I wanna be the first to know.”

“Get out of my house.” Trixie said sharply. 

And with searing laughter, Aja disappeared out the door, Kim and Adore in tow. Farrah shut the door and sighed sweetly. 

“Technically if you and Katya broke the bed, _I’d_ be the first to know.” she said thoughtfully. 

Trixie, surprisingly tired, just shook her head and laughed.

And then, Farrah added. “You look really pretty in that hair, the pink.” she gestured her hand around Trixie’s head. 

“Thanks. Yours looks incredible too. The light totally catches the color in your waves. The ” Trixie spoke sincerely. “I think you’d look great in any color. 

“Thanks, babe.” After a moment, Farrah spoke again. “I’m glad we did this- I feel like I finally know the person I’m living with!”

“Oh, totally. I was so eager for you to learn about me and the issues with my budding sexuality, apparently.” 

Farrah waved her hand dismissively. “You know, if there’s a change in your ‘budding sexuality’, just let me know.” she laughed. “As long as _whoever_ you’re having sex with doesn’t wake me up before eleven on my days off, we’re cool.” 

Trixie laughed loudly. “How the fuck did you live with Aja for so long?” 

“Because he and Chi Chi were never up before noon!” Farrah rolled her eyes. “I miss him, but I’m happy for him. I’m happy I have you, too, now.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Trixie said reflectively. “I think I’m gonna go unpack my room, for a while. What time do you wanna start set up?” 

“An hour after whatever time I get up.” Farrah snorted. “Night, Trixie.” 

“Night, Farrah.” 

And then Trixie was alone, shut behind the barrier of her bedroom door. Maybe it’s because her mind had been so busy, or because it was her first holiday away from home, or even just because she wasn’t utterly exhausted, but she looked around her empty room for the first time and felt… lonely.  
She still had three or four boxes to unpack. A few knick-knacks, her pictures, her fairy lights, some summer clothes she’ll just shove in the back of her closet. Various things she had yet used to make the new place her home. She started on the photos, hanging various blurry and not, in clusters in different spots on her wall. She had several of her and Katya, enough to take up a whole space on one of her walls. 

Those were her favorite. 

After she finished with those, Trixie reached into one of the boxes to fish out things she could put on the shelves left over from Aja’s stay. Her hand grasped something wooden, sharp and when she pulled it out, Trixie felt her chest clench. 

One of the few things she’d grabbed when she left Wisconsin was a few framed pictures from senior year. Photos she’d considered most valuable. The whole evening was a melodramatic moment Trixie still wished she could forget.  
Her heart stung at the site of their young, smiling faces. The picture had only been taken a little over a year ago. Beginning of senior year, when things weren’t great but - Trixie had _Pearl_. Her best friend since the sixth grade. Every significant thing Trixie had ever been through, Pearl was there for. 

And yet, within the last few months, it had seemed her best friend had forgotten that. Forgotten Trixie. 

In another one of Trixie’s melodramatic, and frankly, rather sad moments, she pulled out her phone and began furiously typing away. The phone rang, once, twice, kept going until Pearl’s voice cut through. 

“I’m not around, you know what to do.” And then, a long beep. And Trixie took a deep breath. 

“Hi, I’m looking for - Pearl? Pearl Liaison? I don’t know it’s been so long since I got a text back that I can’t remember your name.” Trixie felt her throat start to close up. “Anyway, it’s - uh - s’almost Christmas and I was thinking about you. You’re supposed to consider giving to charity this time of year, remember?” Trixie laughed sadly. “So, uhm, I got an apartment! And a cat. And a roommate. You should see the place, it’s like Barbie threw up in here all pink and -” Trixie sat down on the edge of her bed, paused, and took another breath. “I miss you. A lot. And I wish you were here because I-I could really use some advice right now.” She was choking. She was definitely choking up and Trixie covered her mouth as if it would make it any less obvious. “Just gimme a call - if you ever get this, I’ll be in Boston. Merry Christmas. I love you.” 

Trixie tossed her phone aside and shuddered out a breath. A few tears fell down her cheeks as she pulled her quilted blanket over her body. She was curling into herself, her eyes trained on the clusters of photos on her wall. 

Her relationships were in such precarious positions. Falling apart, piecing back together - her perspective on different people shifting and tumbling with every step forwards. She barely had time to stand on her own. 

It was all becoming a little too much to handle. 

She wondered if her mom missed her, if Sam or Dan thought about her as often as she’d been thinking about them. Or if they had taken their gifts and just forgotten. She hadn’t gotten a thank you - she was hoping maybe they just hadn’t gotten their gifts yet. 

She wanted to just be able to dismiss her family, to tell herself even if she called, it wouldn’t be worth it. No one that really, _really_ cared, would answer.  
Still, Trixie picked up her phone and dialed the house phone, listening with bated breath for the cease of the ring, the click of the receiver. 

And then it came. 

“Hello there?” 

Trixie sat up. 

“Grandpa? It’s Trixie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Leave us your comments, kudos, and death threats! You can also use your words on Tumblr! 
> 
> Anna: [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Oro: [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)


	20. No One Said the Words All Have to Rhyme & If They Do It's Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve never felt this way about anyone - anything, you know that? It’s - I feel so disgustingly weak next to her. I know you all say she’s my soft spot, and she is… very much so. Sometimes I’m scared to death she’s my entire world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!!! For your love!!! And support!!! After our hiatus!!!!  
> It's been amazing for both Oro and I to be back on track and just _writing_ together. This chapter has been something we've been dreaming and planning for _months_! It's everything we've been working towards and we really, really hope you love it as much we do.  
>  **Just a precaution - there's a tad bit of non-graphic catcalling pretty early in the chapter, just so everyone knows!**  
>  Thank you for everything, you guys.  
> Don't forget to leave comments & kudos! And give us a follow on Tumblr if we strike your fancy!  
> Anna: [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Oro: [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Okay, here's a Christmas chapter fourteen days after Christmas.

The sun was coming down on Boston, igniting the entire city briefly in a blazing pink glow, reflecting on the walls of Brianna’s one-bedroom apartment. It was a bright, simple home, Katya thought; there was something innately peaceful about it. The framed posters on the walls, the simple white furniture, the hardwood floors and that one, signature Brianna, pink wall behind the sofa. The snow had just calmed down on the other side of the big window, and there was a pleasant tremor at the back of Katya’s neck when she considered the outside cold versus the wonderful warmth of her lover’s home.  
Katya watched as Brianna dutifully got on a stool, as she did most evenings that week, to get the box of colorful candles and set up the menorah. Bri’s insistence of that small ceremony, even if no one else was present but the two of them, surprised Katya in the beginning, but as the days went on, she had learned to enjoy this pause in their schedule and the seriousness on Brianna’s cute face as she would stick the candles in place.  
She would then invite Katya to the table, and in a process now familiar and natural to Katya, they would light the candles together as Brianna recited foreign words in an ancient melody: “Baruch Atah Adonai Elohenu Melech haolam asher kideshanu bemitzvotav vetzivanu lehadlik ner Chanukah.” Katya loved imagining they were witches casting a spell, summoning a spirit from the dead, and Bri would just laugh and roll her eyes at that. The prayers would go on, and the two women would light one candle each, until each candle had a brightly-burning, dancing flame. The fire would reflect on Brianna’s face, the flames dancing in her big eyes as darkness settled behind Katya’s back.  
It soon became Katya’s favorite moment of the day, fleetingly short before tensions were cut in order to make room for some mandatory holiday songs. She may have been dancing for years, but she wasn’t used to this type of routine in her personal life, other than yoga. It made Bri so happy that Katya would agree to participate at all, but most importantly, Katya’s efforts were rewarded with a daily allowance of one gift. No matter how much she looked, she never knew where the other ones had been stashed away by her tiny, stubborn, secretive girlfriend. Katya had stopped trying after day three. She’d noticed Brianna becoming restless, although her confidence in Katya’s inability to find them never wavered. She just grinned that bright, beautiful grin and kissed Katya on the lips, cocky and prideful. 

“Alright. Gift?” Katya wiggled her brows suggestively. “I get mine and -” Katya took hold of Brianna’s ass, fingers leaving soft dents in her skirt, her skin. “ - you get yours, huh?” 

Brianna laughed and twined her arms around Katya’s neck. “Cute. But you’re gonna have to wait.” she tapped Katya’s shoulders before pulling back from the embrace. “I’ll give it to you with everyone else at the party.” 

Katya made a petulant noise. “I have to _wait_?” 

“You made me wait for tonight too!” Brianna argued. “Plus you’ve gotten a bunch of other gifts. You’ve waited hours to have sex with me, you can wait hours for a gift.”

Katya, after making another irritated sound leaned her back into the counter. “We could have sex now.” 

“We have to leave. Trixie’ll kill us if we’re late.” Brianna clasped her earring into her ear, her eyes trained on the mirror that hung low on the wall in the entryway. 

“Trixie doesn’t give a shit if we’re late.” Katya laughed.

“She cares if you’re late.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” Brianna tossed her hair. “I’m sure everyone wants to see you. It’s been a few days and it’s your last party. We _should_ be on time.” 

“Mm, okay. Okay.” Katya held her hands up, watched as Brianna slipped into her heels, all leg and long hair, and Katya was _so_ serious about having sex right then and there. “We’re taking my car, though.” 

“The airbags work, right?” 

“Shut _up_ , my driving is not that bad!” 

“It’s like being in a fucking NASA simulation and not to mention your car is a piece of shit, baby,” Brianna spoke through her giggles. Katya liked these moments, the moods where Brianna was utterly unfiltered. 

“I bought that fucking car from my parents.” 

“It’s as ancient as you.” Brianna teased. “Put on your coat, it’s cold.” 

Katya slipped into her blue velvet coat, the sleeves and collar adorned with red faux fur that she liked to pick at on the train. Brianna had pointed out the embroidered flowers on the sleeve, labeling the whole coat a monstrosity right on their first date. Katya still laughs at the memory. She stuffed her keys in her pocket. “Got everything?” 

Brianna hoisted a bag, filled to the top with gifts, over her little shoulder. “Yes, I think so. Let’s get to the car before dark.” 

Katya nodded in agreement. She held Brianna’s door open and entwined their hands once they both stepped over the threshold, down the hallway, in the elevator, and out onto the cold streets of Boston in December. The wind went right through Katya and all her layers, pinkening her cheeks and her ears, her hair getting caught in her signature red lip. 

“Jesus, when did it get this cold?” Katya mumbled, digging for the gloves she normally kept in her pockets. 

“Since it’s fucking Winter, baby.” Brianna replied with a laugh. “How far are you?” 

“Couple blocks-” 

As Katya replied, a loud whistle ripped through the air. A man, short, stout and - genuinely just mean-looking gave Brianna elevator eyes. He didn’t miss a step as he said:

“Why don’t ya come with me, sweetie? Little Christmas something-somethin’-” 

Katya felt all the blood in her body rush to her hands, she spun on her heel and walked backward to keep him in her sights. 

“You talking to us, motherfucker?” she snarled disgustedly. 

“Talking to her, bitch.” He hissed. 

“Gonna be pretty fucking hard to talk with my foot up your ass-” 

“ _Katya_!” Brianna hissed. “You’re gonna get us shot. You can’t do that - God, especially not in New York!” 

“Bri, I got it.” Katya said distractedly, watching as the man disappeared around a corner with a loud scoff. 

“No, you don’t. And I’m telling you right now if you do that in New York, we are gonna _die_.” Brianna stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it's _dangerous_.”

“Says the fifth-degree black belt.” 

“Exactly, Katya. I’m trained to kill. I just want us to be safe, okay?” Brianna reached for Katya’s hand and entwined their fingers. “I love you. I want you to be safe.” her voice softened. “For me? So I don’t have to worry.” 

Katya sighed softly and squeezed Brianna’s hand. She couldn’t help but relent. 

“So, uhm,” Katya jingled her keys a little. “Violet says to stay out of the Southside of the city because of, well, assholes like that. And she gave me a list of like - indie tourist spots, lesser known.” Katya grinned. “The cool shit. And she gave me a couple yoga studios.” 

“Yeah?” Brianna’s tone brightened.

“She has a lot of family there. They visit a lot. She’s spent summers - that kind of thing.” Katya smiled. 

“I’m glad she’s excited for you.” Brianna was quiet for a moment. “How did everyone else take it? What’d Trixie say - she didn’t bring it up when she was with me?” 

“Uh,” Katya hit the clicker and unlocked her car. “No one else knows.” 

Brianna stopped walking. “What?” 

Katya lifted her brows. “I haven’t told anyone else.” she climbed up into the driver’s seat. “Violet asked how we were doing so,” Katya shrugged distractedly. “Yeah, told her.” 

“Oh.” Brianna’s tone sounded very pointed as she climbed in the car with Katya. “Oh. Oh. So, uhm,” she pursed her lips. She sounded almost as if she didn’t quite understand what was happening. “Literally no one else?” 

“Yeah, just hasn’t happened yet. Sorry, babe.” 

Brianna was silent for a moment and Katya opened her mouth to ask an unrelated question when she was cut off. 

“Katya, you gotta be fucking kidding me.” 

“Huh?” 

Brianna’s tone took Katya by surprise. She sounded sharp, hostile, and Katya couldn’t help but look straight at her girlfriend with wide, nervous eyes. 

“Whatsamatter?” 

“Why are you hiding this?” Bri sounded incredulous. “Why aren’t you excited?” 

“What do you mean!?” 

“I’ve told every single person that - I fucking told the girl at the fucking hot dog cart. Katya, I’m so excited, why aren’t you?” 

“Babe, you know I’m excited!” Katya reached across the console to take Brianna’s hand, but she pulled away. 

“No, are you? You haven't packed anything, you haven’t said a word to anyone -” 

“Violet-” 

“Do you _honestly_ think that bitch counts for anything?” 

Katya felt like all the air had left her lungs. She stared at Brianna, a little slack-jawed, her throat drying and closing. 

So… maybe she hadn’t jumped on the chance to tell everyone the big news. Maybe she hadn’t treated it like the exciting opportunity it was. Katya opened her mouth and closed it, her face felt like it was a hundred degrees and she realized she hadn’t even turned on the heat. Brianna was looking at Katya expectantly, those pretty browns practically spearing into Katya’s skull, perfect for the kill. 

Maybe she didn’t realize it. Maybe it wasn’t conscious.

Katya hadn’t told anyone because she didn’t really… want to. 

She remembers telling Violet, a quiet night after their show. Trixie had been the last to leave, kissing Katya goodbye on the cheek. She rarely did that, even Violet had taken notice. 

  


“You tap her yet?” Violet was cleaning off her vanity, but it didn’t deter her from sounding snarky. 

“Oh, please.” Katya was half-disgusted, half-amused. “Vi, I got a good thing going with Bri, try not to ruin that with ancient jokes.” 

“Yeah, how is… what was it? Knock-off Barbie? How’s that going?” Violet sauntered over to Katya and situated herself on Trixie’s vanity, her thigh brushing Katya’s hip. “Wedding Bells?” she sing-songed. “ _Ding-dong, ding-dong..._ ”

Katya sucked in a heady breath and looked at her reflection, then Violet’s, then her own. “We’re moving in together.” 

Violet lifted two perfectly painted brows. “Ooooh,” she had grin on her face, not unlike a Cheshire cat. “Becoming a real lesbian, are you? The full U-Haul and two cats experience?”

Katya narrowed her eyes before zeroing in on Violet. She had been getting on Katya’s nerves more often than not lately. 

“In New York.” 

Violet’s tone changed. “Wait, what?” 

Katya thought she heard a hint of alarm, maybe. 

“Bri’s got a job in New York. We’re moving in together. Two fucking cats and all.” Katya cocked her head a little and punctuated her sentence with a swipe at the corner of her mouth. 

Violet’s face was entirely readable. A rare occurrence, Katya noted. That perfectly painted visage had cracked, shocked beyond that normally sexy, stoic angle her ex always took. 

She scoffed. “You dated me for ten months - couldn’t even get an ‘I love you’. Brianna, two months and you’re moving in together.” Violet hopped off the counter. 

“This isn’t about you.” Katya sighed irritably. 

“I know.” Violet shrugged. “I’m happy for you. You just have a fucked way of going about things, you know that?” 

“I’ve been told.” 

“Mm, I’m - “ Violet pursed her lips and nodded. “Hm. You tell the _World’s Worst Hetero_ yet?” 

“Don’t call her that.” Katya said sharply. “I’m serious.” 

“Did you tell her?” Violet pressed. 

“No. I don’t know what to say.” Katya leaned back on the counter. 

It was a thought she preferred to avoid - Trixie’s inevitable, horrible reaction. 

“How about…” Violet tapped her chin. “ _I know we probably would’ve fucked, like, eventually, but instead I’m gonna live happily ever after in The Big Apple with my strap-on, my wife, and my drug issues. Oh and a cat -_ ” 

“You’re a fucking bitch.” Katya spoke sharply. “You’re just fucking jealous.” 

“Of what?” Violet laughed. “Your white picket fence? If I wanted that I could’ve stayed in Atlanta. No - I feel bad that you’re gonna miss Trixie’s sexual awakening.” 

Katya rolled her eyes. “Have your fucking fun, I won’t have to deal with it in a month.” 

Something in Violet’s aura seemed to change and she straightened up. “I want you to be happy, Katya.” she said suddenly. Her voice had softened. “And I know you.” 

Katya was quiet, but she was listening. 

“Is something _this_ long-term what you want out of life?” Violet asked softly. “The same boring girl in the same boring job with the same boring routine and the same boring sex and the same boring -” 

“I get it.” Katya said shortly. “But I love her.” 

“That’s not always an excuse. Love isn’t always a good enough reason... “ Violet paused. “Especially if you’re just gonna end up miserable in ten years.”

  


Violet’s words had, regrettably, stuck.

Even still, she gave Katya that list of things in New York the next day and - somehow - it made Katya feel even worse. 

Brianna ran her hands through all that blonde. “You’ve had _so_ many opportunities. You take Trixie out to lunch every fucking day. You see Ru in the mornings, Bianca, Ginger-” Brianna paused. “Katya, _I know you_.” she was beginning to hate that phrase. “You’re hiding this. Why?” 

Katya hesitated. All she needed was just a _little_ white lie. Her specialty. “I don’t know!”

“Aren’t you excited?” 

“Yes!” 

“Don’t you want this for us?” 

“Bri, yes!” Katya felt suddenly desperate. 

“Then tell them tonight.” she said finally. “We can do it together - I’ll hold your hand, I’ll be right there. Besides - I wanna be there for when you tell Trix.” Brianna paused. “I wanna see the look on her face.” 

Katya knew she couldn’t just say no to this. The word was out of her vocabulary. 

“A big announcement.” Brianna ran her fingers along Katya’s jaw until she was forced to look in those hopeful browns. 

_“That’s not always an excuse. Love isn’t always a good enough reason…”_

“Yeah, baby, of course we can do that.” 

✘✘✘

They pulled up to Trixie’s apartment fifteen minutes late. Most of the ride had been rendered silent, lest for the intolerable hum of Christmas music on the radio and the blast of the heat through the vents. Katya had driven slow on account of the ice and her rapidly beating heart. 

“C’mere,” Brianna had said. Katya rounded the car and approached her girlfriend, allowed Brianna’s arms to be wound around her neck and a long, lingering kiss to be placed on her lips. “I love you so much.” she said against Katya’s mouth. “You know I love you so much.” 

“I know.” Katya said softly. She let her warmth spread in her chest, let herself rest on Brianna as if the girl was her whole anchor. In a lot of ways, Brianna was.

“I’m sorry I snapped.” she said, her fingers tracing down Katya’s jaw. She could barely feel it on account of the cold. “I’m really stressed and - it’s not an excuse, but -” 

Katya allowed herself a smile. “I know.” she responded. “And I’m sorry too.” 

Brianna looked relieved, but still, she asked: “You really wanna go?” 

Katya kissed her lover’s forehead. “Of course I wanna go.” 

“Good.” Brianna lifted the gifts on her shoulders and laced both their hands together. “Let’s get up there and have a little fun!” 

When Katya got inside the building, she almost thanked God for the heat, thawing out her hands, her cheeks. She watched as Brianna removed her hat and smoothed out her flyaways - like a perfect Winter princess. They were standing in a small main room, bits of furniture, a display bookcase, and a fireplace that was adorned in holly and other holiday decorations. It was one of the older spaces in Boston, but nonetheless, it felt soft and homey, welcoming in a unique way. 

“Nice place,” Brianna said considerately. “I’m surprised she can afford it.”

“She’s splitting with a roommate which helps a lot, let me tell you.” 

“Boston is crazy fucking expensive.” Brianna said with a sigh. “Although, I was looking at our rent and New York is like three times worse.” 

Katya grunted in agreeance as they climbed the stairs. Up on the second floor, Katya could feel the sweat beading on her brow and atop her lip, threatening to ruin her precisely (more or less) applied makeup. She started wrestling off her coat halfway to the door with pink holly and a little sign on the front. 

_“Let yourself in! Shoes and coats by the door, drinks and snacks in the kitchen, and absolutely no fucking! T &F”_

Katya recognized Trixie’s loopy writing at the end and laughed. 

Brianna scoffed playfully. “Shouldn’t she take her own advice?” 

“Oh, one can only hope.” 

The door creaked as Katya opened it, the whole atmosphere of the building a testament to its age. Brianna seemed to take the lead - she’d been doing that a lot these days. She stepped inside, hung Katya’s coat, hung her own, and cast their shoes to the pile by the door. Soft music was playing, the end of Christmas song faded into some God awful pop Katya supposed the kids listened to these days. She sort of wished for Trixie’s signature country hits, the music she’d play in her truck, or sometimes when they were in the basement together. 

Katya paused as she shedded her boots. “That… looks like more than Jacque’s people?” she commented confusedly.

“That’s because it’s not just Jacque’s people.” Violet said, sauntering into the kitchen. She was in a tight, black leather dress that Katya couldn’t help but stare at. She was tragically overdressed, but Katya doubted anyone cared when Violet looked _just that good_. She took a sip from her wine glass before continuing. “The roommate invited a couple people - lotta really cute girls, if you’re interested - but that doesn’t include me.” Violet gave Katya a wink. 

“She’s not interested.” Brianna cut in. “I promise.” 

“Polly-Pocket!” Violet said cheerily, almost as if she never noticed Brianna at all. She approached the two of them with an air seemingly vile. “Congrats on the job, baby! That sounds like such a nice thing… for you.” 

Brianna sounded wary. “...thank you, Violet.” 

“And don’t worry, I didn’t tell a soul.” Violet licked her lips. “You know, I only like to talk about exciting things, right Katya?” she spoke around her wine glass, eyes shimmering with glee.

Katya only half-remembers her attraction to that. “Violet, come on, not cool.”

Brianna clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “I wanna go see people actually worth my time.” 

“You can find bubblegum Barbie entertaining like the suburban hostess she is,” Violet shrugged mischievously. “Dress is… _tiny_ , by the way. Almost like she's trying to get _someone’s_ attention.” 

“Will you get the fuck out of our way.” Brianna’s words were a statement, certainly not a request. “I didn’t come here to waste time on _you_.” 

Violet looked pleasantly scandalized and she gave Katya such an amused look - Katya thought those eyebrows would pop right off her forehead from how high they were raised. 

“Struck a nerve, didn’t I?” Violet bit her lower lip. “Well, I’m bored now. Everyone is here.” Violet swiped a chip from one of the assorted food tables and sauntered back into the living room. “See ya around.”

Katya wrapped her hand in Bri’s. “Babe-” 

“God, I am so fucking glad I’ll never have to deal with that utter bitch again.” 

Katya hummed in agreement. Her stomach was doing that ugly twisting-turning thing again.

“I mean, actually, she isn’t bad when you really get to know -”

“I don’t want to.” Brianna grabbed a beer from a little tub below the dining table. “What do you want?” 

“To get through tonight? Bianca’s Scotch.” 

Brianna managed a laugh. “Okay, drama queen.” 

“Coke is fine.” Katya said dryly, unsure how dramatic she was being. 

When Katya walked into the living room she was bombarded by a cacophony of sights. People were everywhere in Trixie’s living room - strewn over the couch, sitting on the pink throw rug, laughing over a line of shots on the coffee table. Jacque’s people were mixed with bunches of unfamiliar faces. Kim had stranger’s head in her lap, Alaska was very obviously flirting with a bearded man while wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater Katya’s ever seen, and even Violet was looking to upgrade her little black book. 

They ventured further into the room. Katya found Bianca lounging in one of the couches, Adore in her lap in a shockingly open display of affection. Adore was sipping on a glass of wine, her face nuzzled into Bianca’s neck - Katya hardly wanted to know what they were saying to one another. 

“Oh, you’re here.” Bianca began with a teasing little huff. “We were beginning to think you got lost in there.” she gestured to between Brianna’s legs. 

Katya grinned. “You don’t think I know my way by now?” she asked, wrapping an arm around Brianna.  
“Brianna!” Adore yelled and hopped up from Bianca’s lap. “I haven’t seen you in so long -” 

“I know, I know… I’m sorry, work has been insane…” 

Katya, feeling rather reckless, plopped herself into Bianca’s lap, a devilish grin on her lips. 

“What’d you get me, Santa Baby?” she asked, wrapping her arm around Bianca’s neck. “I’ve been such a bad, bad girl.” 

Bianca made a disgusted noise. “If you don’t get off my lap, that lump of coal is going straight up your ass.” 

“Anal play? Coal anal beads -” Bianca violently buckled her knee and sent Katya tumbling into the hardwood floor with a distinct thud. Everyone burst into laughter, even Katya, who was rubbing what was sure to be her bruised knees. 

She couldn’t help but notice the lack of one rather distinct cackle. 

“Hey, where’s Trixie?” 

“Oh, there it is. Katya one; Trixie three.” Violet called from one of the other chairs. Her legs were crossed

“What?” Brianna looked between Katya and Violet. “Am I missing something?’ 

“I’m keeping track of how many times these two losers call for one another.” Violet answered plainly. “Trixie asked about Katya three times before she got here.”

“No, I haven’t!” Katya heard Trixie call from an adjacent room, her new bedroom, she assumed. “I asked once when the bitch was running late!” Trixie rounded the corner into the living room, clad in the most _godless_ white dress Katya had ever seen. Trixie was all leg and hip and waist and tit and - 

Pink hair? 

Wait, when did Trixie get pink hair? 

Katya watched as Brianna approached Trixie, took her into a hug, a kiss on the cheek. Trixie’s smile was so bright and crooked, Katya saw the lights of the little pink tree, hidden in the corner, shimmering in her lip gloss. She was illuminated with a confidence she’d never seen presented in Trixie - like a glow. Katya had a feeling it had little to do with her hair. 

“Oh! Yeah, you haven’t seen Trixie’s hair yet?” Adore nudged Katya’s hip. “I did that - I did all the streaks.” 

“She didn’t even tell me.” Katya replied, watching as Trixie interacted with Brianna, with Bianca too. “I didn’t even know-” 

“Are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna say hello?” Trixie sounded a little impatient, maybe playfully so, but Katya couldn’t tell. 

“Oh - God, yeah, I was just -” 

“Distracted by her tits.” Violet completed. 

“ _Hair_ , actually.” Katya hissed. She brought Trixie into a hug, the fabric of Trixie’s dress caressing the skin of her arms, her finger tips. She was so warm, smelled so sweet, and Katya couldn’t help but bury her face in Trixie’s new hair. 

“I don’t mind either way.” Trixie pulled back from the hug and grinned. “Do you like it?” 

“Your - you -” 

“Her _hair_ , Katya.” Brianna snarled sharply. “She’s asking about her hair.” 

Trixie glanced to Brianna and lifted her brows. “Sure, the hair.” 

Katya saw a tension there she’d never seen before. An awkwardness, a wariness in Brianna’s eyes. 

Katya cleared her throat. “Uh - yeah! It looks beautiful, you look beautiful, why didn’t you tell me?” Katya took one of the curls between her fingers. Trixie looked different. It was sobering Katya in a way she had yet to understand. 

“I wanted to surprise you.” Trixie said slowly. “I wanted to see the way you looked at me... and I think it was pretty worth it, mama, don’t you?” 

Trixie looked like she was choosing her words carefully, specifically, like they were holding another meaning. Her eyes glimmered and the way she tucked her lip between her teeth - Katya saw something there she could’ve sworn was meant only for her. 

“It was hysterical.” Brianna cut in. Katya felt Brianna’s fingers digging into her suit jacket - not that it was painful, her nails were blunter than Katya’s… but it was… defensive? 

And with that, the glimmer in Trixie’s eyes was suddenly gone. 

“How’s your vacation been, Kat?” Trixie sounded so goddamn conversational - ignoring Brianna, speaking as if nothing had changed. Katya wanted to grill her, she wanted to know every thought passing through Trixie’s pink head. 

“Nice. Lots’a sex -” Katya cast a playful glance to Bri whose shoulders seemed to relax. 

Trixie grinned and sipped from the straw in her beer. “Yeah, you told me.” she said good-naturedly. “Gettin’ tired of her yet, Bri? You could always dump her on me.” 

“Hey -” Katya began with a laugh. 

“I’ll never get tired of her.” Brianna’s voice was light - she sort of sounded like she was speaking to her boss, airy - maybe a bit fake. 

Trixie giggled. “Yeah, well, just let me know.” 

While Trixie was speaking, another girl - someone Katya hadn’t even noticed before wandered into the room. She was in a bodycon dress, the signature red and white, and she had the prettiest eyes. Big and brown. She was carrying a bit of mistletoe in her hand. 

“Hey! I brought mistletoe, does anyone wanna kai kai?” 

“Mayhem!” Farrah leaned out of her conversation with Adore. “I told you we’d have some in the kitchen doorway!” 

“I’ll kiss you?” Trixie suddenly said. Katya did a double-take, the way Trixie’s face was soft and calm, how not even a blush had risen on her cheeks at the implication. 

“Wait, you serious?” The girl replied. “You’re Trixie, right? Far’s roommate?” 

“Yes and yes.” Trixie said with a little laugh. “Yeah, c’mere, I’ll kiss you.” 

If Katya had thought she was out of the loop before - 

No. Katya wasn’t okay with this. She wasn’t okay with the way this _Mayhem_ was eyeing her best friend up and down with intention. She didn’t like the way her fingers were grazing the soft skin of Trixie’s arm. She had half a mind to kick Mayhem in her beautiful shin. Something ugly, surprisingly strong, rose within her, and she was far from used to it. She paid little mind to what she wanted out of life, usually - but she knew she didn’t want this. She didn’t like hanging in the fucking sidelines to watch… all of _this_. Everything - a little voice said in her mind - she used to tell Trixie she needed. Everything she joked with Brianna about, Trixie’s fucking _sexual awakening_ , Violet called it? That thing Katya was definitely not here for.

And, she reminded herself, would very soon actually not be here for.

In a month, Katya would be unpacking boxes in a city three hours away and starting a life she suddenly… wasn’t that sure of anymore.

Mayhem held the faux mistletoe above their heads and Katya watched as they both leaned in for a swift peck on the lips that made her feel a hell of a lot worse than it should have. 

Trixie let out a horribly endearing shriek when they parted. “I kissed a girl!!”

“And surprise, surprise - you liked it.” Violet said boringly. 

“Someone should play that.” Mayhem said thoughtfully, grinning prettily under Trixie’s dimmed house lights. “Thanks for that.” Katya heard her say. “Maybe I can come find you later?” 

Katya thought she was having a heart murmur when Trixie mumbled a cute little ‘yeah’ and winked. 

“Miss Trixie!” Brianna said curiously. “Mama, are you looking for some action this fine, Winter evening?” 

Trixie shrugged a shoulder. “Mm, might be a nice change, don’t you think?” 

Katya couldn’t help herself if she tried. “Trixie.” she said breathlessly. “What the fuck?” she tried to keep malice from slipping into her words. Alarm, petulance, whatever you wanted to call it - she just didn’t understand anything anymore, let alone her own strong physical reaction to all of this. She was fine with Adore, eventually, wasn’t she? She was fine. Everything was fine. Except for the overwhelming urge to punch this _Mayhem_ in the face. She tightened her hold on Brianna.

She watched as some of the color left Trixie’s face for a moment, before she turned impossibly red and hot - even down to her chest and the dip in her dress. 

“What?” she asked incredulously. 

“That’s just - I mean - Trixie, that’s - I thought you said no fucking?” Katya’s head was starting to pound. 

“It’s my damn apartment!” she laughed. “I don’t wanna walk in on you and Bri on my bathroom floor!”

“You should go for it, Trixie. Someone _single_ and _clearly_ into you.” Brianna added with a calm smile. 

“Hey, Adore was single when we -” 

“Trixie, don’t you go down that road with me.” Bianca called. “Don’t start. You’ll have a new asshole by the end of it.” 

Katya watched as Trixie rolled her eyes - unsure if she was even serious or not. 

“You guys can sit - stay a while, you know that, right?” Trixie saddled in beside Bianca and set her beer on the table. She pat the empty spot beside her. 

Katya immediately moved into it, paying no mind to the fact that Brianna didn’t have a seat. It was just habit. Brianna plopped herself into Katya’s lap, however, and left her feet hanging over on Trixie’s thighs. 

“If you guys start making out I will actually kick you out.” 

Katya wheezed. “Aww, you missed us!” 

“Katya -” Bianca said over the commotion.

“Yeah?” Katya leaned past Trixie’s big head. 

“Merry fucking Christmas, you awful fucking slut.” Bianca tossed a large, flat box into Brianna’s lap, causing her girlfriend to grunt at its weight. It was wrapped in shimmering gold paper, adorned with a little bow and Katya’s name in pretty black script. 

Brianna handed it off to Katya with a little grunt. “Be careful, baby,” she warned. 

“Bianca, you didn’t have -” she said softly, taking the gift into her hands. 

“Just open it, Katya.”

Katya, with her signature grin, tore into the precisely wrapped package. Beneath was a simple, white wardrobe box that Katya practically threw the lid off of. 

“You fucking - Bianca, you’re _not_ serious.” Katya said incredulously. 

“Guess Santa thought you were pretty good this year, huh?” Bianca laughed.

Inside the box was the jacket Katya wore in the _Rocky Horror Picture Show_. All the patches, pins, and chains still intact - it was as if Bianca hadn’t moved a thing, had kept the piece in perfect condition for Katya. The leather was still soft, still smelled brand new. Katya itched to wrap it back around her shoulders.

“Bianca, that’s amazing!” Trixie said, placing her hand on Katya’s lower back. “It's beautiful.” 

“You spent _hours_ -” 

“I know. Hours on it for _you_ , kid. It isn’t gonna fit me -” 

“Yeah, but you can have it for your portfolio or something -” 

“I’ve got photos, Katya. Just take the fucking thing. I made it for you.” 

Katya didn’t know what to say. Sure, it was her costume piece, sure it was just a jacket, but it was also Bianca’s blood, sweat, and tears. Her devotion to her craft. Katya felt a pang in her chest at the thought of not sitting with her ugly mug during their downtime. She never realized how much she was losing.  
She ran her fingers over the pins before reaching across Trixie to take Bianca’s hand. 

“We don’t deserve you, Yanx.” she said honestly. 

“Yeah, duh.” Bianca squeezed Katya’s fingers. “If I catch you smoking in it, I will rip it off you so fast your head will spin.” 

Katya laughed. “No, I wouldn’t dream of it.” she said thoughtfully. “I love you. Thank you.” 

Bianca shoved Katya’s hand away. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Well, since we’re doing gifts.” Brianna hopped up from Katya’s lap to grab her bag. “Who wants to go first?” 

“You.” Katya reached into the bag and handed a medium-sized box to Brianna. 

“Baby, I told you to save your money -” 

“You know I’m not gonna do that.” Katya wrapped her arms around Brianna’s waist and tugged her back into her lap. “Open it, baby.”

“I’m gonna get my gifts.” Trixie said, getting up to leave the group. 

Brianna slid into Trixie’s spot and began tearing at the cheap, flowery wrapping paper. Katya tapped her foot on the carpet - finally, a surprise to be excited about. 

Brianna pulled a knit blue sweater from beneath the paper. Katya had seen it a little over a week ago in a shop on the other side of Boston - originally presented in the store’s window as a gag gift. Katya couldn’t help herself, her money practically begging to leave her wallet. 

The front was adorned with a menorah, covered in gems that were silver and blue, and gold for the flames. The words ‘come on baby, light my menorah’ were bedazzled beneath the collar of the sweater which - uncoincidentally - was also adorned with shimmery pompoms. 

“Oh,” Brianna said shortly, clearly speechless at the beauty of the artifact. “Wow.”

Katya was practically bursting from the excitement. “See! I knew you’d love it! Bri, you look so good in blue.”

“Yeah - Katya, I… it’s something.” Brianna inspected the sweater further, ran her thumb over the cheap gem on the seventh candle. “I’ll - uhm - I’ll have to wear it to your mom’s Novy God party!” 

Katya wheezed. “See - there’s a reason I’m in love with you,” she brought Brianna into a kiss, a gentle ‘you’re welcome’ that her lover leaned into. For a moment, Katya ceased questioning all of her choices. 

“Wait,” Trixie said, her arms full of little gifts. “I wanna see it.” 

Brianna sighed a little and turned the sweater around to show Trixie. Trixie, who, with one look at the piece, burst out cackling. She nearly dropped the parcels in her arms. 

“Katya - Katya, I don’t think there is a _worse_ way to single someone out?” she said between giggles. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Trixie. We could get you a nice ‘dyke’ sweater.” Violet added. “Not that you need it.” 

Trixie flinched, like someone had startled her, Katya saw it. She was momentarily concerned to - a defense already at the tip of her tongue. But Trixie spoke first. 

“That would be unfortunate, Violet,” Trixie started slowly, seeming to contemplate her next words. “I mean, how would people be able to tell us apart?” she finished calmly, finding herself a place on the floor, right at Katya’s feet, her eyes in her lap. 

Katya picked the wrong moment to take a sip of her coke. She coughed into her hand, prayed she didn’t spill any onto Trixie’s nice carpet. What… what actually happened to Trixie in the last few days? And why wasn’t Katya here for it?

 

Violet clicked her tongue, lacking any kind of response. 

“So, anyway.” Brianna said calmly. “Here and here.” she handed Trixie and Katya their respective gifts. “Trixie, you go first.” 

It occurred to Katya that she had _no idea_ what Brianna had gotten her, not a clue. They never discussed anything, although, Katya had her own little gift up her sleeve. 

Trixie carefully revealed a song book. It was the soundtrack to _Hedwig and the Angry Inch_ , complete with piano accompaniment and chords. Trixie made a lilted noise. 

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Bri, this is so _cool!_ ” Trixie said excitedly. “Where did you find this?” Trixie began rifling through the pages, looking at the songs and reading through the music. Katya never realized before that moment how much she wanted to hear Trixie sing them. “Where in the hell did you find this?”

“Music shop on the east side.” Brianna said kindly. “I knew you’d appreciate it.” 

“I do.” Trixie said softly. “Thank you, Bri.” 

“Of course - okay.” Brianna turned to face Katya. “Now, you.” 

Katya’s fingers were itching to open the small package, the one she’d waited hours for. With Brianna’s permission, she removed the wrapping paper and popped the felt jewelry box. Inside was a necklace, the pendant in the form of the illuminati symbol - the Eye of Providence - held by two little hands. She was bursting with excitement at the sight. 

“Oh, this is the coolest fucking thing I have _ever_ seen.” Katya removed the necklace from its case, the long chain gliding along her fingers. She was so, so giddy. “It’s gonna go great with that top I have - the, uh, the little stars and moons and - oh my _God_ , Brianna this is fucking perfect!”

Brianna smiled big and bright. Katya wanted to kiss her - she always wanted to kiss her. “Thought of you as soon as I saw it,” she brought Katya in for a quick peck on the lips. “I’m so glad you like it, Kat. Can I put it on you?” Brianna asked. When Katya turned to oblige, she watched Trixie’s face, the way she averted her eyes in favor of rifling through the book. She could see an unfamiliar tension in her shoulders. 

“Hey,” Katya said, gently taking some Trixie’s hair and tucking it behind her shoulder. She let her fingers linger. 

Trixie looked up and smiled. “You need somethin’?” 

Katya wasn’t sure. 

Brianna pressed a gentle kiss on the nape of Katya’s neck where she had parted her hair. 

“There.” Brianna’s voice was quiet and rather pleased, Katya thought. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Katya said, bringing Brianna in for another kiss. “Can I get you to put on the sweater?” 

“No, you cannot.” 

“Hey! Trixie, girl, sorry I’m late, Tams needed me to - Brianna??” 

Katya didn’t even see Monet walk into the party, but the taste in her mouth was suddenly sour at the sight. 

“Oh my God! Monet!” Brianna practically leapt to her feet to take the other woman into a hug. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Trixie invited me!” she replied with a little laugh. She was in a tight, muted blue dress, one Katya realized made her ass look incredible.

“Yeah! Thought it might be nice!” Trixie smiled between the three of them. “Where’s Tammie?” 

“Tam’s is in the middle of a heated debate with someone downstairs. About - sage, or some bullshit.” Monet rolled her eyes. “She’ll be up… whenever she decides the conversation is over.” 

Trixie laughed. “Okay, okay, great.” 

Katya wasn't a jealous person. She was hardly involved with someone long enough to even feel that kind of insecurity, but something about Monet… about her history with Brianna. The girl seemed sweet, funny even, if Katya was being honest. But it was that pang of something. 

“Oh my _God_ , girl! I have so much to fill you in on -” Brianna paused for a moment before turning to Trixie. “Hey - is there somewhere we could -” 

“Kitchen?” Trixie offered. “Everyone is in here, anyway.” 

“Thanks! Baby, I’ll be right back!” she said thoughtfully to Katya. “Love you!” 

When the two girls disappeared into the kitchen, Trixie hoisted herself into Brianna’s seat. Bianca and Adore had gone off somewhere as well - Katya naturally assumed Adore’s blatant disregard to the no fucking rule - leaving the two friends on their own. For a rare moment at this packed party, Katya finally felt like she could get some well-deserved alone time with Trixie; to find her Trixie, the person she knows, underneath all that pink hair and bravado. 

“Like fucking musical chairs.” Trixie said with a huff. “I’m not getting up again. I wanna sit beside you.” 

Katya laughed. “Nah, kinda like you sitting at my feet. Look down and straight into your cleavage.” 

Trixie laughed too. “Glad you’re enjoying the view.” she rifled through the small packages in her lap. 

Katya scoffed playfully; it made Trixie look up. 

“What?” 

“Nothing! You’re so _bold_ tonight.” Katya said with a laugh. “What’s up, sis?” 

Trixie shrugged. “Nothing! It’s just been a good few days and…” Trixie shrugged. “I… got to talk to my grandpa.”

“He called??” Katya hadn’t heard Trixie speak of her family in a while and - the way her voice lilted took Katya by surprise. “He called? Is that good?” 

“No, actually, I called my mom and he was visiting the house.” Trixie smiled. “He talked to me for two hours right in her kitchen - he’s so _proud_ of me, Kat. My parents gave him some wishy-washy story about me moving out without notice - but he said he knew something was up.” Trixie laughed. “‘Not my Bess -’”

“...Bess?” Katya looked at Trixie quizzically. “He calls you Bess?” 

“Oh - yeah - it’s his nickname for me. I know it’s a little weird -” 

“No, no, no, it’s cute.” Katya sat criss-crossed and turned herself so their knees were touching. 

“Anyway - he was so mad when I told him everything and he said he’s gonna plan a trip out here, come see our shows - I’m so excited.”

“You know, if he taught you how to play, Ru might let him on stage with you or something. Your family, our family - that kind of thing” Katya said automatically.

“You think?” Trixie beamed. “Katya, I can’t wait for you to meet him. I think you’ll love him.” 

Katya nodded in agreement, but she didn’t know why. She wasn’t even gonna be here for it. 

“So - it’s been a really good few days, Katya. I’ve been dying to tell you and show you -” Trixie reached for Katya’s hand. “I missed you way more than is probably normal -” 

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual. I feel like I walked in here to a whole new person.” Katya laced their fingers together. 

“Is that good?” 

Katya paused, licked her lips, and then spoke. “I like both Trixies. Very much.” 

“Thank you,” Trixie bit her lip. “Listen - I have been dying to give you your gift for-”

“Oh! Yeah and I have-” Katya reached for Brianna’s bag. 

“No, no, me first!” Trixie produced a gift bag with a card peeking out of the top. It wasn’t pink - the only gift that was any other color actually - but a deep red. Trixie had even taken the time to script Katya’s name in big cursive on the front. Katya plucked the envelope from the bag and pulled the tab to retrieve the card. It was nothing extravagant, a simple Hallmark card. But inside, Trixie had written a note opposite the cliche Christmas poem. 

“Katya, this goes against every better instinct that I have -” Katya laughed. “ - but I really think you should know you’re the greatest friend I’ll ever have. I love you. Tracy.” Katya read aloud. “You signed it Tracy - and did you draw little matryoshka dolls - oh my _God!”_ Katya cackled. “This is perfect-” 

“I know, it’s awful, but I couldn’t help myself!” Trixie teased. 

“You are the greatest person I have ever met.” 

“You will _ever_ meet,” Trixie assured. “Now, this may be a little bit strange, but this gift sort of has two parts and one is probably really shitty, so please bear with me.”

Katya lifted her brows in surprise, saying nothing, as Trixie took a folded note out of her bag and started to open it nervously. She looked sweet, anxious at Katya’s response, and began reading quietly to Katya. At first, it took Katya a split second to understand what was going on. The words were familiar to her ear in more than one way, but there was something - she wasn’t used to the way Trixie’s mouth wrapped around the syllables Katya knew so intimately.

Was Trixie speaking in _Russian_? Katya’s eyes widened in surprise. Her beautiful friend seemed to be exerting herself, but yes - she was actually doing it. _For Katya_. She could not believe it. And she was saying -? Katya’s jaw dropped as the words formed coherently in her mind, translated back into English. In that exact moment, Trixie actually _was_ the greatest person she’s ever met.

Trixie finished, flushed and delighted at Katya’s evident excitement. “Was I okay?” She bit her lip. Katya placed both of her hands on Trixie’s waist and pulled her into a crushing hug. Trixie clung to her and Katya didn’t feel like letting her go.

“You fucking -” Katya finally said into Trixie’s hair, feeling herself at a loss for words. “You fucking translated _Contact_ for me?” She pulled back so she could look at Trixie’s face. “Girl, what? That’s incredible, I -” she placed a kiss on Trixie’s forehead. Trixie’s blush deepened.

“Open your gift,” Trixie said shortly, quietly.

“Oh, yes.” Katya shook her head. Trixie gestured carefully to the gift. Katya began removing the bits of white tissue paper and pulled a round wooden embroidery frame from the bag. A dark blue fabric embroidered with silver stars was stretched across the frame, bearing the words Trixie just spoke to her in beautiful cyrillic letters. Katya let out a breath. “Trixie -”

“I added the original quote in the back, so even if I fucked it up, you could see I meant well, at least,” Trixie said quickly, turning the frame over.

_“You're an interesting species. An interesting mix. You're capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you're not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other.” - Contact, 1997_

Katya’s heart did a little jump at the familiar handwriting. She turned the frame back, her eyes going over each little nuance, every mark, every symbol done to near perfection. 

“Trixie - where did you… get this? It’s incredible?” Katya looked up from the frame, her brows creased. “Is their like a shop you can order from - ?” 

“I made it.” Trixie said sheepishly. “I… uh, bought the movie, and, fuck, this is going to sound so creepy -” 

“No - no, it won’t.” Katya said sharply. “Trixie, you did not put that much -” 

“Obviously I couldn’t _ask_ you and - uh - I don’t really know anyone in this city other than people who work at Jacques and they barely even speak English - okay, so, I called your sister and asked for help,” Trixie shrunk a little with that confession. “She was really great, Kat, she taught me how to pronounce everything,” she added quickly.

Katya was completely overwhelmed. She could feel tears welling at the bottom of her eyes - threatening to spill, but just not quite there yet. The room was suddenly hot, suddenly too full and too stuffy and too fucking much. She could feel her cigarettes in her jacket pocket, weighing her down, begging to be relieved, used, and replaced. 

“Jesus, Trixie…” was all she could manage. “You - you called _Elena_? I don’t know what to say.” 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I knew that was way too much,” Trixie’s expression fell, “did I overstep? Shit, I knew it.” Katya could see the little tears forming in those beautiful brown eyes, and cursed herself mentally. As usual, her reaction fucked everything up.

“No, no, no, Trixie,” Katya shook her head. “Baby - ah - _Trixie_ -” her hand absentmindedly went into Trixie’s hair, lifting her head to get Trixie to look at her. She brought her tearful eyes up, looked straight into Katya’s blue ones. It was a horrible cliche, but Katya couldn’t say if it took moments or minutes for her to regain her ability to speak. She was getting too close.

“No, it’s okay. It’s so beautiful. I just,” Katya took a breath, releasing her hands from Trixie (she barely even registered her other hand was stroking Trixie’s arm). “I just don’t know what I’m gonna do without you,” Katya’s voice was hoarse.

“What?” Trixie blinked in confusion. “Katya, what’re you even talking about?” She smiled, “we have plenty of time.”

_Fuck._

Katya ran a hand through her hair. “You know, I - I think I just need a smoke - is there somewhere -” 

“We… uh, we have a fire escape.” Trixie said softly. “The window in the kitchen, just unlock it -”

“Thank you!” Katya pressed a sloppy kiss to Trixie’s cheek. “I’ll be back, I promise.” 

“Oh - oh - okay, Katya -” 

Katya maneuvered her way into the kitchen, the room strikingly cold. She couldn’t believe she fucked up like that. Actually - actually, yes, Katya could absolutely fucking believe she fucked up like that.

“Hey, baby -” Brianna stood from her seat beside Monet. “Baby, are you okay? You look all flushed.” 

“Huh?” Katya barely listened as she approached the already open window. “Oh - yeah, great. Incredible, fantastic - just -” Katya wrestled her pack from out of her pocket and flashed it to the girls. “Need a break.” Katya slipped into her unlaced boots. 

“You should get your coat -” 

“I’m good.” Katya said, one foot already unsteadily over the threshold. The cold overtook her, seeped beneath her blazer, her thin cotton shirt. She gently lowered the window to just a crack, enough to get out. Trixie’s whole fire escape was covered in at least an inch of snow, the only place spared was beneath a small, skinny overhang. Katya scraped herself a little place, pushed some snow off the edge, and lowered into a squat. She couldn’t breathe until she took that first draw, until - after several hits on her lighter - she could feel the smoke in her lungs. She held it together until it burned her throat and she was choking on it in puffs. 

“You look like you’ve been having a good time.” 

Bianca’s voice in the dark scared the ever living shit out of Katya, enough to make her feet slip on the slush and for her ass to land in the snow. She cursed the cold as she watched her cigarette drop between the cracks of the fire escape grate. 

“The fuck are you doing out here, Yanx?” Katya snarled. “You owe me a bum.” 

“There isn’t a chance in hell I’m buying you a fucking pack, so save it.” Bianca replied. “I’m doing some thinking - and some drinking - what’s it to you?” 

Katya fumbled for another light, her lighter even more stubborn than before. “Some thinking.” 

“About what?” 

“In the words of one of the greats, Bianca: ‘What’s it to you?’” 

Bianca was taking a sip from her little wine glass, her face calm.

“Where’s Adore?” 

“I don’t know, she scampered off somewhere. You know how she is.” Bianca said quietly. 

“Is that what you’re thinking about?” Katya looked over to Bianca, she was perched on the stairs, her knees almost to her chest in attempt to keep warm. Katya could see Adore’s coat beneath Bianca’s own. She sighed and scooted over on the step to make room for Katya - thank God. The cold was already coursing through her veins, probably flushing her face and turning her lips a soft purple beneath her lipstick. 

She stepped over the snow, careful of her untied laces, and squeezed herself beside Bianca. They were silent for a moment, and then… 

“I got a job in California.” Bianca said finally. 

Katya choked, the smoke coming in short, sparse coughs from her lips. “You _what_?” 

“Don’t get excited, it’s just some costuming work for a theatre, not far from Adore’s apartment, actually.” Bianca’s voice was more level than Katya thought she could ever manage. She didn’t sound the least bit excited, or even nervous - just contemplative. 

“She doesn’t know yet - I haven’t decided if I’m gonna go, it’s only an option.” Bianca swiped the cigarette from Katya’s fingers and took a drag. It ended in fits of coughing. “Fuck, I knew I quit for a reason.” Bianca said over the choking. “Fuck, why did I do that?” 

“Because I don’t have any hard liquor on me.” Katya said with a short laugh. 

Bianca shrugged as she considered this, it seemed to agree with her. 

After a moment, Katya spoke again. “You should take the job. You should spend like - a month at the club, take the job, and leave. You can’t manage our asses for the rest of your life.” Katya paused. “There isn’t much left of it anyway.” 

“Fuck off,” Bianca’s voice lacked the malice she was used to. “Katya, am I off my fucking rocker? Is it crazy to love her, to - change my life for her? All my choices?” 

“Yan-” 

“Moving across the goddamn country for a _kid_. A nineteen year old baby - I - I had to explain how income tax works to her this morning! It’s like teaching a kid how to tie their shoes-” 

“Okay, stop.” Katya said sharply. The sound of Bianca’s voice was just aggravating Katya’s headache. “You _know_ you love her. You’ve been to hell and back with her. You let her go to follow her dreams and sat - like a fucking kicked puppy, mind you - for two months while your heart was literally 3000 miles away!” Bianca began to protest, but Katya was not done. “Everyone can see what this is. Why are you still questioning it?” 

Bianca was silent. 

“And, yeah, it is dumb, but… it’s the only chance you’re going to get here. You and I both know where this is headed, and - she’s going to need you, that’s for damn sure - but she’s not the only one, Del Rio, not by a long shot,” Katya could feel an unexplained sadness lingering at the end of her own words, something she couldn’t exactly place her finger on. “Maybe you can have the future you want - it sure as hell beats staying here in a present you don’t want, doesn’t it?” 

“I _get_ it, Zamo.” Bianca shook her head. “You’re right. You are right.” 

“Bitch, I know.” 

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone - anything, you know that? It’s - I feel so disgustingly weak next to her. I know you all say she’s my soft spot, and she is… very much so. Sometimes I’m scared to death she’s my entire world.” Bianca downed the rest of her wine. “She says it’s forever and, just… I don’t know if it scares me more to think she’s right or to know that she’s wrong. But you’re right, maybe that doesn’t even matter. I wanna get older with her, I wanna watch her grow into the star I know she is, but mostly,” she sighed, “I don’t think I can ever let her go, you know? I’ll just be here for her until she tells me to go away, and then I’m counting on your sorry ass to pick up whatever miserable pieces are left of me,” she chuckled softly, toying with her empty glass.

A weird feeling overtook Katya. 

A weird… realization she couldn’t yet put into words. Her heart sank into her stomach, yet she felt bizarrely hollow, numbness spreading from her cold toes to the rest of her. 

“Brianna and I are leaving too.” she said, uncertainty tainting her words. 

“ _You are?_ ” Bianca’s evident doubt surely didn’t help Katya’s convictions. 

“She… got a job. She wants me there with her, I know it’s soon, but I wanna be… with her.” 

Bianca was quiet. “That’s a shame - I was going to talk to Ru about giving you my position.” 

Katya glanced at Bianca. “You were?” 

“There’s no one who knows this place as well as you do - even better than me sometimes, kiddo.” Bianca placed a hand between Katya’s shoulderblades to rub soothing circles - it somehow made her feel worse. “You tell Trixie yet?” 

Katya forced back any desire to cry with a long, long drag on her cigarette. “I _can’t_ ,” she said pathetically. “Everytime I look in her eyes - Bianca, she makes me - I don’t know.” 

Katya could just see into the window, peer in past the sheer curtain. Brianna was out of her line of sight, but - not Trixie. Trixie, standing in the middle of the room, laughing mirthfully with Adore, two beautiful girls in pink and faded blue, two entirely different moods that somehow complemented each other perfectly. The abundance of fairy lights in the room reflected off of Trixie’s hair and lip gloss, and she seemed to positively sparkle. Bianca looked, too. 

“You’re gonna break her heart, you know that, right?” Bianca said softly. 

Katya felt all the air get punched out of her gut. She placed her head in her hands, the ash on her cigarette falling onto her nice pants. Tears actually pricked the corner of her eyes. 

“And she gave me this _incredible_ fucking gift - she learned _Russian_!” Katya looked Bianca in the eyes. “How many people do you think would do that? She translated my favorite movie quote to Russian - wrote it down and fucking _read_ it to me.” 

Bianca wrapped her arm around Katya’s shoulders and tugged her in. “Was it any good?” 

“She mispronounced at least five words,” Katya said with a miserable, tearful laugh. “But I don’t even _care!_ ”

“I’m sorry, kid.” Bianca swiped away a black tear from Katya’s face, made good on cleaning up her face as Katya tried to stall her emotions. “This… this is something you gotta figure out for yourself. I can’t do the work for you.” Bianca brought herself to her feet. “The answer is there, you just gotta find it.” 

“The answer to what?” Katya looked up at Bianca.

Bianca contemplated this. “I don’t know, the answer to why you only said two words about moving to another state with your girlfriend and then cried an entire scroll about Malibu Barbie over there.”

She watched Bianca climb ungracefully through the window, through the kitchen, where she took Adore from Trixie. She watched as Bianca took both of Adore’s hands, mumbled something, to her, and then Adore was screaming. She practically leaped into Bianca’s arms, laughter, tears - Katya’s heart swelled with a certain determination. 

She stubbed her cigarette on the brick of the building and kicked the snow off her boots. She climbed lazily through the window, paid no mind to her girlfriend as she passed through the kitchen, into the living room. Her eyes scanned the place until she found Trixie, perched on the edge of her couch. She was with that God-awful _Mayhem_. Mayhem, who was tucking Trixie’s hair behind her ear and making Trixie laugh and blush. Katya’s blood started to boil at Trixie’s sweet blush, at the way Mayhem was letting her hand’s linger on Trixie’s skin like Katya had done a hundred times before. 

Katya walked straight for both girls, her strides long and determined. Her fingers twitched, this time with the consideration of ripping Mayhem’s hair right out of her pretty, round head. 

“You could spend the night at my place -” Mayhem was saying. “So Farrah isn’t -” 

“Trixie.” Katya said with the breath she’d been holding. “Can we talk?” 

Trixie looked between Katya and Mayhem. “Uh…” 

“Trixie, you can always come find me later,” Mayhem replied. “It’s okay - you have my number too if you wanna meet up another night -” 

“Uh -” Trixie rose her brows. “Uh, you know I don’t think this’ll be that long, but yeah, I can just catch up with you later?”

Mayhem leaned up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to Trixie’s cheek. “See ya later, T!” 

Trixie squeezed Mayhem’s hip as she sauntered off and finally, finally Katya had Trixie’s full attention. 

“What’s up, Kat?” 

“I - uh… can we go somewhere private?” 

“Mm, the cat is in my room.” Trixie said thoughtfully. “And there’s people in the kitchen. We could go in the hallway back there?” Trixie pointed to a faux wall where Katya assumed the bathroom and bedrooms were located. 

“Yeah, yeah, that works.” Katya walked distractedly over to the couch and pulled out Trixie’s gift bag, the pink one beneath everyone else’s, she noticed. After that, she laced their fingers together and tugged Trixie into that back corner. 

“Kat, what’s this about?” Trixie said softly. “Are you okay? Is Bri okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I -” Katya handed over the pink gift. “I haven’t given you your gift yet.” 

Trixie took the bag into her delicate hands and started with the card, just like Katya had. Without an envelope, Trixie laughed at the front of the card. A hand-drawn, stick-figure Trixie, lazily scribbled in pink and yellow sharpie. 

“Can I read aloud?” 

“If you wanna be lame about it,” Katya said with a breathless laugh. 

“Did you see what I did for you? Mama, lame doesn’t even begin to describe.” Trixie laughed. “Here, okay - “My dearest, darling doll -” Trixie smiled. “You’ve grown so very tall. Pretty in pink, always on the brink of something incredible. You are more to me than you’ll ever know, and through our highest highs and lowest lows, I will always find you.” 

Katya remembers writing it, bent over her kitchen counter with a cigarette hanging between her lips, sometime between midnight and the morning. Brianna had been asleep, just a wall away from her, the rustling in the sheets a tempting distraction. She’d stared at the nearly blank page, eyes flicking between plain white and the tip of her pen. She brushed the falling ashes off the paper, a testament to the time she spent pondering, her other hand rapping the pen on the page. It was her first Christmas with Trixie - probably her last one, too. 

Hearing her read it felt like a sweet payoff. And Katya wasn’t sure if those were tears in Trixie’s eyes or a trick of the light, but the idea of it was a payoff too, in a way. 

“Kat - that’s so sweet and - yes, totally fucking lame.” Trixie laughed. “I love it. I love it so much.” 

“I love you,” Katya shrugged nonchalantly, as she has a thousand times, her heart beating a mile a minute with the ridiculous, wild thought of possible added meaning. What was she even doing?. 

Trixie lowered her eyes, flashing Katya a little smile before digging into the little pink bag. First, she produced a felt, drawstring bag. Katya didn’t even need to guide Trixie any further. She pried open the bag and dumped the contact into her palm. It was a handful of pink guitar picks - Katya couldn’t help but grin, even with all her nerves. 

“Oh - flip one over.” Katya said sheepishly. Katya picked up one of the pics and flipped it to reveal a picture of the two of them on the other side. One picture in particular, actually - the one from so many weeks ago, Trixie and Katya on top of the vanity table grinding, half-dressed, laughing. 

Trixie shouted mirthfully and brought the pic closer to her face for examination. “This is perfect - this is fucking perfect, I’m never playing with another pick again.” 

“Good. I got you ten of them.” 

“God - you even got it in .70mm - how’d you know?” 

“You called my sister, I stole your picks -” 

“You fucker -!” Trixie laughed. “These are - these are perfect, Katya. I love them. I’m gonna go practice with them -” 

“Wait.” Katya said softly. “Trixie, there’s one more thing, but it’s not in the bag.” 

“Oh… okay?” Trixie looked quizzical, yet open. “What is it?” 

Katya patted down the pockets of her suit jacket until she found what she needed. Hidden in her left pocket, Katya produced a little purple bracelet, poorly applied googly eyes glued onto its woven string. 

“I wanna give you this,” Katya said finally. “You - you always play with it when we’re talking. It just feels right to give it to you.” 

“What? Kat - no. Doesn’t that have some value to you or something, I couldn’t -” 

“It just means more to me that you’ll keep it and think of me.” Katya took Trixie’s free hand into both of her own and began tying the dirty, fraying ties around her wrist. A tight knot, like their bond. “And -” Katya sucked in a breath. “I gotta talk to you about something -” 

“Thank you for never leaving me - what? You go ahead -” 

“No, Trix -” 

“Katya, listen.” Trixie said finally. “I know this is totally dumb, but, thank you for sticking with me.” 

Katya’s breath caught in her throat. “Trixie, wai-” 

“I’m - it’s so hard with Adore leaving and I don’t even feel like I can talk about it! But I keep thinking about you and how grateful I am and how I know I need you at my side.” Trixie brought both her hands to Katya’s forearms. “I can’t explain it to you, but I know I need you. I know I was meant - I was meant to meet _you_ and that’s some hoodoo shit, I _know_ -” 

Katya couldn’t help it; she took Trixie by the waist, pulling her into her arms. She held her tight, and buried her face in Trixie’s shoulder, breathing her in. Trixie fell into the embrace, wrapped her arms around Katya’s neck and breathed soft, heavy breaths, relishing in every moment of their embrace. Katya pressed Trixie’s back to the wall, the tears in the back of her throat burning overwhelmingly along with her emotions. Trixie’s arms instinctively tightened as neither girl spoke a word, just the sound of their quiet breathing. 

“I don’t wanna leave you.” Katya said into her shoulder. “Trixie, I don’t think I can leave you.” 

“Then don’t.” Came the soft reply. “Please.” 

Katya closed her eyes for a moment and imagined two futures. The entire world splitting open and diverging into two distinct paths, right in front of her, and in the middle - an abyss she was staring right into. Two girls, more like, with two very different, very uncertain outcomes. 

Part of her was still unbelievably confused. Uncertain. Katya was presenting a hesitance she’d never really had to deal with before - at least, not since she was young. She pulled out of the embrace first, but she was slow and deliberate. She could feel the heat between them seeping away with every inch apart. Trixie kept her arms around Katya’s neck, a tight, purposeful loop, a locked chain Katya never wanted to find the key to. Katya couldn’t escape Trixie’s eyes, those golden-browns that made Katya’s insides melt. Katya watched them, watched as Trixie’s gaze flickered down to her lips and the reality of her situation, of the space between them - or lack thereof - hit her. 

That was all Katya needed. It was all she ever needed.

_Sometimes I’m scared to death she’s my entire world._

“Katya -” Trixie began dryly. “You -” she seemed a little unsure. “You know, you haven’t even seen my bedroom.” 

Katya blinked. “Sorry?” her voice sounded hoarse. 

“Katya, you haven’t seen my bedroom. My room. All to myself, finally. With a lock and a big…” Trixie bit her lip, nearly doing Katya in, “soft bed.” 

Katya parted her lips in shock, the look in Trixie’s eyes sending all of Katya’s inhibitions out the window. 

“Yeah,” was all Katya could say. “Yeah, show me, baby.” 

Trixie’s face lit with something new, something scandalous, teasing. She parted them but entwined her hand in Katya’s, and this time Katya’s cold fingers weren’t the sweaty ones. Her door, Katya noticed, was a few mere feet away and conspicuously marked with a little, pink ‘T’ in the center. 

She watched Trixie turn the knob, watched in slow motion as the door creaked open and a little white cat came scampering out indignantly - as if it had been scared or disgusted. She didn’t let that deter their moment - no, they had much _bigger_ problems. 

Trixie pushed the door open to quite the scene. 

Violet was laying on Trixie’s bed, her pink comforter strewn halfway between the bed and the floor. She was fully naked, Katya noticed, the head of an attractive, lightly tattooed, short-haired girl - still half-dressed herself - buried between her beautiful long legs. She was moaning in pleasure. Katya had half a mind to laugh if it didn’t thrust her head-first into reality.

“What. The actual. Fuck.” Trixie’s voice was as malicious as Katya had ever heard it. 

Both girls’ heads whipped up, which, unfortunately, revealed mystery girl’s identity. 

Trixie’s eyes widened in recognition, her mouth forming a shocked ‘o’.

The girl looked so honestly fucked out, Katya wasn't sure she understood the situation. 

_“Do I have something on my face?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, is everyone happy now? <3
> 
> Tumblr:  
> Anna: [@wewouldbeheroes](https://wewouldbeheroes.tumblr.com/)  
> Oro: [@the-pink-one-so-terrify](https://the-pink-one-so-terrify.tumblr.com/)


End file.
